Afraid of the Dark
by futo-chan
Summary: Rey Mysterio is stuck in a haunted house for a week with 9 others including HBK, who is being a jerk, and Batista, who is madly in love with Rey.
1. Shawn Michaels is being a

**Afraid of the Dark**

Chapter 1: Shawn Michaels is being a #%$

"Oooh speak of the devil! It's Rey's number one fan!" Shawn Michaels teased Batista as the Animal entered the men's locker room after a mixed Raw/Smackdown pay-per-view show.

"Shut your trap," Batista shot at him.

The guys all sniggered. Rey had only recently been informed by Shawn Michaels that the entire roster of both wrestling shows (male and female, but most persistently, male) were all completely infatuated with him. He took it well, all things considered, and remained good friends with all the guys he had always been friends with but still insisted that he was straight.

This was hardest on Dave Batista, who was not only Rey's best friend, but the one Rey had discovered to be the _most_ infatuated with him by far. Shawn had told Rey that Batista had been beating up other guys behind Rey's back. Because to Batista, everyone was misperceived as a threat and everyone was a rival in winning Rey's affections. Rey and Batista had had their little falling out over Rey's discovery of this development and they had since made up and maintained their close friendship.

Triple H had recommended an anger management therapist named Dr. Adalia Jimenez to Dave, who he had recently begun seeing on a weekly basis.

But Batista still ached to try to win Rey for himself. Rey knew it, but he wouldn't give in to Dave's advances no matter how protective and sweet or controlling and brutal Dave's seduction tactics became. Rey remained calm throughout it all and was a fiercely loyal friend to Dave. Everyone suspected (correctly, I might add) that this calm loyalty was what held Batista together even though Rey never returned any feelings of romance.

The guys all tried to plant little lures like candy and things to bring Rey over 'to the dark side' as it were, but they never succeeded. Rey, as far as they could tell, was straight as a ruler.

"So, have you tried to give Rey-Rey any presents lately? He still accepts them even though he won't accept anyone's advances. Seems like he sends mixed signals to me…" Shawn put out there, letting his voice trail off suspiciously.

"Rey just accepts stuff so that he doesn't hurt anybody's feelings, man, give it a rest. Rey's not sending mixed signals. You're _mixing _Rey's signals," C.M. Punk said, blowing HBK's theory out of the water.

Shawn stuck out his tongue at Punk. The Straight Edge superstar just rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker, shaking his head. "I can't believe you're older than me, you're twice as immature."

"Well, at least I'm mature enough to be able to tell who Rey likes the best lately. You claim he's not returning any love to any of us poor guys here, but I've been seeing him giving extra glances to _one_ of us."

"I said _shut your trap_," Batista warned, but couldn't prevent curiosity from sneaking into his voice.

"I'll give you a clue…he's on Raw right now," Shawn said.

"Shut it, HBK or I'll snap your-"

But Shawn cut the Animal off before he could finish his threat. "And he's prone to saying 'motherfucker' like every other word."

Just then John Cena barged in.

"How's your anger therapy going, motherfucker?" Cena asked Batista, grinning.

Oh, crap.

"It's failing miserably from the looks of it." Shawn noted.

"It is not! Shut your goddamn mouths or I'll break your jaw! And that's against the goddamn treatment, so SHUT UP!!!" Batista yelled.

Rey Mysterio came into the room, sighing, with Jeff Hardy behind him.

"Are you guys fighting again? 'Cause I can leave while you all play a game of grab-ass."

"Not fighting!" Cena blurted, holding up both his arms in surrender.

"Unh hunh. Then why does Dave look like he wants to rip you a new one?"

Cena twiddled his thumbs. "He started it."

"I FUCKING DID NOT!" Batista roared, twisting his towel into a rope.

Rey looked calmly at Cena.

"You started it, John, you have that look on your face that Dominik has when I catch him playing video games instead of doing his homework."

Cena flushed. "Uh…yeah. My bad."

Rey quirked his eyebrow.

Cena whipped around to face Batista.

"Sorry man, sorry. I'm just fucking with you, we all proud of you and shit that you're getting your shit together, I think that's nice."

"Riiight," Batista growled.

Rey looked at him next.

Batista dropped his eyes from Rey's. "Yeah, yeah, we're cool. Whatever."

"Water under the bridge, people, water under the bridge," Triple H reminded all of them and stalked off to the showers.

"Let's time him," Jeff suggested suddenly.

"What? Time who?" C.M. Punk asked, turning around. "Time who doing what?"

"Triple H's shower," Rey explained with a sigh. "I swear, that guy's hair is so long… how does he get in and out of there so fast?"

"Is that one of those things you just have to find out before you die or somethin', Rey-Rey?" Cena asked.

"Why? Are you gonna go in there with a camouflage wetsuit and do some reconnaissance with a naked Triple H?" Shawn asked, teasing.

That was a scary image for too many reasons to name.

"I would if Rey-Rey wanted to know how he gets out of there so fast," Cena confessed bravely.

Most of the guys would climb Mt. Everest if Rey asked them to. Or fight bears. Or fight bears while climbing Mt. Everest.

"That's not necessary," Rey assured everyone. "I'm just curious. We should put him on Ripley's Believe it or Not or apply him to get into the Guinness book. Because really….I cannot wrap my mind around that." Rey stared off in the direction of the showers, his brow furrowed.

You could see the wheels turning in his cute little head.

They heard the shower turn on. Triple H was the only one in there at the moment.

"Mark," Punk said and looked at his watch, beginning to time the shower.

Chris Jericho swaggered into the locker room and walked through to see everyone standing very close to Rey (which was not at all unusual) as he stared at Punk's wrist.

"What the hell are you peons doing?" Jericho demanded, perplexed.

"Shhh. We're timing Triple H's shower," Jeff informed him and started biting his nails as he watched the seconds tick away.

"So?" Jericho said arrogantly.

"So, don't go in there, bitch, 'cause Rey-Rey's interested in how long it takes Triple H to get in and out of there," Cena said, stretching out his fingers to crack the joints in case Jericho wanted to start a fight over getting into the showers.

Just then they heard the shower turn off.

"Sweet Jesus!" Jeff Hardy exclaimed.

"Are you kidding me? Seriously?!" Punk gasped.

"That was weird…" Randy Orton said.

"That was amazing…" Shawn contradicted.

"That was badass," Cena declared. He looked at Rey, suddenly unsure of his comment. "That was badass, right?"

Rey nodded, awed. "That was…muy loco. Very, very crazy."

"One minute flat," Punk announced.

Triple H stormed out of the showers with a towel around his waist as he wiped his ears dry with another one.

"What are you fools all looking at me for?" he asked, frowning.

"You just took a shower in one minute," Punk informed him.

"Really? That's cool," Triple H said.

"How did you do that?" Cena asked him when Rey seemed too embarrassed to question the man directly.

"I don't know," Triple H shrugged.

"Do you not wash your hair in there?" Hardy asked.

"Ooh," Randy said, catching on. "That would explain it."

They all nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"Yeah, that doesn't count unless he washes his hair in there," Edge stated.

"I do wash my hair in there," Triple H interrupted.

They all chattered amongst themselves for a minute at that new development.

"What do you wash it with?" Punk piped up.

"Just soap," Triple H responded.

"Aw, buddy, don't tell me you're washing those golden locks of yours with that same industrial crap that you put on the rest of your body!" Shawn asked his friend, exasperated.

"Yeah, why? Is that bad?"

"OH MY GOD, is it BAD?!" Edge groaned, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. He tossed around his own lovely fluffy hair. "No wonder you can't manage to get any body at all in that mess!"

"Hey!" Triple H said defensively. "My hair's wet whenever I go out into the ring, you guys know that!"

"They only do that because they don't know how else to explain how your hair got so damn flat in the first place. You end up looking like you crawled out of a damn sewer somewhere, man!" Cena informed him.

Triple H pouted sadly, feeling attacked.

"Why doesn't it count if he didn't wash his hair in there?" Batista demanded, taking the heat off of poor Triple H.

"Next time you'll say it doesn't count because he wasn't shaving his legs in there!"

"Do _you_ shave your legs in there?" Rey said jokingly, chuckling.

"Uh, _yeah_," Batista answered, as though that was obvious. "Don't all of us?"

"No!" Rey said, surprised. "Why the hell would I?"

"I don't," Jeff put in.

"Well, _I_ do. I care about how my body looks on screen, maybe you guys don't but I do," Randy said defensively.

"Are you serious? Is there seriously a whole bunch of you guys that do non-facial shaving in the shower?" Rey questioned.

"Why do you think the showers are clogged sometimes?" Shawn said with a wink. He was lying. That never happened. But the thought was disgusting.

Rey gagged at that.

"I thought that was soap scum," Randy said innocently.

"I don't want to think about it," Rey said, shaking his head.

"Why did you think we wouldn't shave our legs?" Batista asked Rey. "Do you think that's gross or something that we do that?"

They all listened in. If Rey liked hairy men they would stop shaving their bodies this very instant. Screw the viewers and Mr. McMahon and showmanship and all that other stuff.

"No, I don't have a problem with it! I just…God, I guess I just thought that you guys were all way less hairy than you evidently are," Rey explained.

"Oh, I see," Shawn said, grinning. "Rey, you thought we all look like you and just naturally don't have a lot of body hair."

Rey blushed intensely.

They all stared at him.

Rey's chest was naturally that smooth, he didn't ever shave it or anything.

He crossed his arms self-consciously.

"Well, Rey doesn't need to shave his legs, he wears pants, like me," Jeff said, coming to Rey's defense.

"No, Rey doesn't shave his legs because they're almost entirely smooth, you've seen him in the summer when all he wears at night is boxers," Cena argued.

Rey glared at him.

"Sorry, dawg, you know it's true," Cena muttered sheepishly.

"Whatever. If you guys all think looking like Sasquatch makes you seem more masculine than me, then you're wrong," Rey said bitterly.

"I don't know, Rey, maybe you've just still yet to hit puberty," Jericho said cruelly.

Batista tried to hold Rey back as the luchador lunged after Jericho, but Rey was too fast for him.

Rey stood still for an instant, long enough for Jericho to recognize that Rey was on top of him and it was too late to do anything about it.

Rey raised his hand and everyone in the room flinched.

Jericho opened his eyes a second later to see Rey lower his hand.

Everyone blinked in mixed relief and surprise.

"If you don't start restraining your mouth, Jericho, I'm gonna stop restraining my fist, you got it?" Rey warned.

Jericho nodded profusely.

Rey stalked back towards his locker.

"Wait, does Rey-Rey's smooth skin mean he has less testosterone than the rest of us?" Edge asked.

Rey was about to make another lunge.

"It's got nothing to do with testosterone," C.M. Punk cut in, sighing. "It's a genetic thing."

Rey paused and watched Punk, waiting for more information to come spilling out.

"Explain that," Jericho ordered.

"It's an ethnic thing," Punk illustrated. "I was watching Dr. Oz the other day on Oprah-"

"Oh my God I love him," Edge blurted.

"So why don't you marry him?" Randy teased.

Edge frowned at him. "Maybe I will."

"Anyway, _go on_," Rey urged.

"Well, Dr. Oz said that it's like a survival adaptation. A lot of white guys are hairier than other races because their ancestors lived in places in Europe that were near swampier areas and the hair deters mosquitoes from reaching their skin. Like, hairy guys can feel the little fuckers get stuck in the hair and then swat them before they catch malaria from the bugs, as opposed to guys like Rey who had less hair would have gotten bitten easier and so they tended to die of malaria or something and they couldn't reproduce anymore because they were dead. So a lot of people whose ancestors are from swampy areas are hairier, but Rey's ancestors must have lived somewhere drier."

"Such as Mexico," Rey put in.

Punk nodded. "Yeah. Like the deserts of Mexico."

Rey nodded. "That makes perfect sense."

Everyone else nodded too. It did make sense.

"I think Rey's less hairy because he adapted to be cuter than the rest of us in order to survive," Shawn said, grinding his fist playfully into Rey's head as he walked by the smaller wrestler.

Rey glared at him. "I am _not_ cute."

"Oooh, yes, you are," Batista told him and patted Rey on the head.

"Everybody get their damn hands off me, I'm gonna kick the next guy that tries to touch me!" Rey blurted, frustrated and waved Batista's hands away from him.

"Okay, okay, Jesus!" Batista said, raising his hands in surrender. "I won't touch you."

Rey exhaled angrily through his nose and was about to open his locker when the loudspeaker came on.

_Rey Mysterio, please report to my office, pronto. _Mr. McMahon's voice ordered.

"God, one damn thing after another," Rey muttered and walked out of the locker room.

The door slammed after him. Rey almost never slammed doors.

"Aw, you made him mad," Shawn said, winking. "See, he wasn't as mad at Cena earlier, even though John was annoying him. _You_ annoy him even a little though, and he just goes off on you."

Batista bit his lip. All he'd tried to do was ruffle Rey's feathers a little. Usually Rey would laugh it off and hit Batista with a towel or something. They could have a cute little moment of play fighting. But this time Rey seemed to have gotten irritable right away.

Dave failed to notice that Shawn was the one who had riled Rey up with the first noogie. Even Rey had his limits. He didn't like non-relatives poking at him all day. Batista also failed to notice that Rey let him get away with more noogies than anyone else.

The minute Rey stepped out into the hallway he was met with a surprise. All of the Divas had been gone all week, including for tonight's show. And suddenly they were all back, carrying luggage and milling around in the hallway, making more noise than a flock of seagulls.

"Ah…um, hi, ladies!" Rey said, recovering relatively quickly and smiling brightly.

He nearly got squeezed to death by Kelly Kelly.

"What's up, girl? Where were all of you this week? Mr. McMahon never told us where you went!"

The blonde leaned back from nearly choking the life out of Rey. He looked at her calmly.

"Oh my God, Rey, we were filming this special and it was for Halloween and it was amazing but it was so scary and I'm totally not allowed to talk about it and I totally just told you too much already but I'm so glad to see you, we were all alone and we missed all the guys because we couldn't even call our boyfriends and I haven't even heard a male voice in like forever."

"Oh, okay. That sounds like you guys went on an interesting trip," Rey said, managing to have heard the entire deluge of words correctly.

She squeezed him hard again. "Bye, Rey! I gotta go! I want to go see my boyfriend! It's great to see you again; I missed you so, so much!"

Rey laughed. "Okay, bye Kelly!"

He sighed as she ran out the door. "Jesus Cristo, that girl can talk even faster than I can."

Melina laughed at him. "Hey, Rey."

"Hey."

They hugged briefly. Rey hugged everybody, it was just his thing. The girls loved him because he was so incredibly respectful and, thinking of his wife, or maybe missing having any contact with a woman at all while traveling for work, he would always remember to ask them how they were.

He enjoyed talking to them because in a way he related more closely with some of the girls than with some of the guys. Rey was very talkative and was addicted to being around people. He always needed someone to talk to and being in wrestling, most of the guys were the strong silent types so it wasn't unusual to see Rey being the only guy to sit with the Divas sometimes. He'd be laughing and discussing relationships and all the drama that girls love to talk about. They loved for him to tell stories about his kids and he loved to tell them.

The girls were fiercely loyal to Angie and they all would have reported any misbehavior on his part, but Rey never gave them anything to confess to her. He worshipped his wife and referenced her constantly. He'd known Angie for the majority of his life and so there was no other woman that could ever hope to rival what she meant to him emotionally. Rey literally couldn't imagine living his life without Angie. He might have thought that some of the Divas or some of the women he interacted with on his travels were pretty, but he couldn't ever see being interested in them romantically.

There had been some women who were attracted to Rey, though, who thought they could gain the upper hand on Angie by being around him when he was away from her and by dressing sexy or using some crazy tactics like that. But when they actually talked to Rey they were all immediately struck with the knowledge that the romantic part of his heart was closed off. He kept himself politely romantically disconnected when at work, traveling, and basically even two feet away from Angie. The Divas always liked to say that Angie had Rey's heart, and even when he wasn't physically with her, his heart was.

"So was it fun, or was it one of the worst ideas Mr. McMahon has ever had? Where did you go? All I could get out of Kelly was that it was somewhere for a Halloween special."

Melina put a finger to her lips. "It's a secret. I can't tell you where he sent us, because you guys are probably going to be sent there next and I want to see you surprised."

Rey pretended to pout and she laughed at him.

He grinned. "But seriously, Melina. Was it a good surprise or was it a bad surprise?"

Melina shrugged. "I don't know. For me, it was kind of exciting."

"Kelly sounded like she liked it," Rey observed.

Melina sighed. "Oh you know how that girl is. Her attention span is kind of short. I love her, but she doesn't think about much in that pretty little head."

"So she did like it, or…?" Rey asked unsurely.

Melina looked sad suddenly. "Michelle hated it."

"Michelle McCool went with you?"

Melina nodded. "She saw…well, I wouldn't have believed her if she hadn't shown me…"

"Melina, you're making my head spin. Can you please just tell me where you went and what's wrong with it?" Rey asked.

Melina bit her lip. "You're right, Rey, I shouldn't toy with you. I can't talk about it. I'm sorry I even started to talk about it."

"Oh. All right. See you next week?"

She smiled sadly. "See you next week, Rey."

She left. All of the other Divas went by. Rey waved or told them goodbye. He looked around and was thinking of hurrying to Mr. McMahon's office when he saw Michelle McCool was still here. She looked like she'd been through hell and was just coming back.

"Hi, Michelle. I missed you girls this week, there was too much testosterone flying around without the Divas," Rey said, trying to brighten her up.

She smiled weakly. "I heard you trying to ask where we went."

Rey nodded. "I heard you hated it."

"I did, kind of," Michelle said. "We went to a haunted house."

Rey blinked. "Oh. Seriously? Like, an authentic one?"

"Yeah." She looked at him suspiciously. "What are you doing in the hallway at this hour with your mask and everything still on, anyway?"

"I was going to go see Mr. McMahon in his office."

Michelle nodded. "He might want to ask you to go there next."

She set her bag down and let go of her suitcase handle.

She looked faint and somewhat breathless.

"Hey, easy. Easy, Michelle," Rey said, bracing her by the arms. "Easy…" He helped her set her back against the wall and slowly sit down.

"Take deep breaths, you look winded."

Michelle did just that.  
Rey didn't dare take his eyes off her. "If you feel like you're gonna pass out, then put your head between your thighs."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. It looks stupid but it works."

Michelle slowly lowered her head between her knees and breathed.

Rey kept his hand on her back the whole time to reassure her and also because he was afraid she might stop gasping for air at any moment.

But he felt her body move as her lungs went in and out and after a minute, he knew she'd stay conscious.

"Didn't you say you had to go see Mr. McMahon?" Michelle asked, lifting her head up. He helped her slide her legs down.

"Yes."

"Go see him then."

Rey blinked. "Are you sure? I can stay with you-"

"Go, Rey."

He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I won't be long. Don't you try to run a marathon or go anywhere too far until I get back."

"I need to talk to you when you get back, Rey," Michelle confessed abruptly.

"I got the feeling you needed to," Rey said, smiling sadly. "People don't usually pass out left and right at the sight of me."

Michelle chuckled. "Okay. I'll be out here. Just remember to come back."

"I will," Rey said, squeezing her hand in his.


	2. Michelle McCool has Weaknesses!

Chapter 2: Michelle McCool has Weaknesses?!

"Uh, I'm sorry I was late in getting here, Sir, I was uh…I ran until a flood of Divas in the hallway. They just got back from somewhere pretty interesting from the sound of it," Rey explained.

"Oh, don't worry about it Rey. You were what, five minutes? That's nothing in the scheme of things," Mr. McMahon assured him.

"Still, I'm sorry I'm late," Rey apologized.

"Think nothing of it. How are you doing today?" Mr. McMahon said.

"I'm doing well, sir. Thanks for asking. You?" Rey responded politely.

That's something Mr. McMahon always liked about Rey. He was polite without being required to. And he didn't kiss ass. He didn't even know how to. He was a rare breed- a genuinely kind soul.

Mr. McMahon's opportunistic grin spread out across his face. "I have a business proposition for the male half of the roster, and I'd like you to inform the rest of those lugs about it."

Rey smiled nervously. "Um…what is it?"

"Will you tell them for me, Rey?" Mr. McMahon pressed gently, coating his voice in sugar.

It felt more like processed chemical sweetener than real sugar to Rey, though. And he would know. He was practically made of real sugar.

Rey wondered if Mr. McMahon knew about all of the wrestlers' secret crushes on him.

Rey looked at his boss discreetly for second and recognized that Mr. McMahon probably knew everything. After all, some of the guys were so loud about their love for Rey it was hard not to notice. John Cena for one. If Mr. McMahon had just come out and asked Cena if he liked Rey, the wrestler would have blurted "Hell yeah, all of us guys do."

Rey gave a short sigh.

"Ah, well, I'd be glad to talk to them if I knew what I was supposed to talk to them about."

Mr. McMahon laughed heartily. "How right you are, Rey!"

Rey fidgeted a little.

"So," Mr. McMahon said, suddenly serious again. "To get right down to it, I was thinking of proposing a Halloween special."

"Like Halloween Havoc?" Rey asked hopefully.

Mr. McMahon smiled, but shook his head. "Oh, no. There won't be any wrestling. It's not going to be a pay-per-view, either. We'll just air it on the USA channel the night before Halloween. Devil's Night, as the kids call it."

"Uh, yeah," Rey confirmed anxiously. "But…what will we be doing if there isn't any wrestling?"

"You see this map here, Rey?" he asked the luchador, swiveling his monitor to face Rey.

Rey leaned in carefully and saw a map on Mr. McMahon's computer screen.

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, what we have right there on that little green triangle is our destination for this week. Instead of filming for our wrestling shows this week we'll be filming for this special at this location right there," Mr. McMahon tapped the glass demonstratively.

"What state is this in?" Rey asked.

"Massachusetts."

"Okay. Um…what's there? What's the location? A stadium?"

Mr. McMahon grinned devilishly. "A haunted mansion."

Rey flushed. "Oh."

Mr. McMahon laughed.

"Well, it's _allegedly _haunted. I don't believe in any of that crap. Do you, Rey?"

"Um, no, not really, Sir."

Rey didn't know whether or not he believed in ghosts. He'd never had an experience with the paranormal before but he considered himself still young (which he was) so he didn't like to rule out that he would never see a ghost in his life. Rey was very much open to being proven or disproven about something before he would pass judgment on it. For instance, he had no clue if he would like sushi until he tried it. And once he did, he decided he liked it. A lot of the guys refused to try it in the first place because of the stigma attached to eating raw fish. The trouble with that is they still have yet to find out if they like sushi.

"Well, that's good. Then you wouldn't be opposed to spending a week with a camera crew filming at night and sleeping during the day in this house, would you?"

Rey fidgeted slightly. "I can't say I would mind too much."

"Good. Good. So what we're thinking of doing is having you and all the guys who sign on stay in the house all week. Like I said, the cameras will only be on at night and we'll film you guys trying to contact ghosts, wander around scared, or something like that and we'll take all the best footage of people being frightened and reacting to dust bunnies or whatever the hell is in that old house and paste it together and call it our Halloween Special."

"So, what do you think?" he asked Rey.

Rey considered it for a minute. They would have spent the week filming wrestling if they weren't filming for the special. If might be safer to stay in a haunted house than to wrestle, but he and all the other guys were definitely more in their comfort zone in a nice, safe, closed-off ring than out in the middle of nowhere in a haunted building in Massachusetts.

"Where is this place?" Rey thought to ask all of a sudden. "You said Massachusetts, but like…where in Massachusetts?"

Mr. McMahon's eyes flashed. Rey couldn't ever quite tell why.

"Oh, it's a small abandoned town called Sassafras."

Rey snorted a little. "That sounds more like the south than the north, don't you think?"

Mr. McMahon chuckled and shrugged; conceding. "Well, evidently the settlers didn't think so. _They_ named it Sassafras, Rey, not me."

"Why is it abandoned?"

"Oh, well, I did my research on it, don't you worry. There was a town there once. But it was bulldozed─ or horse and carriage-d to death, God knows what they used to demolish things back then─ in between 1865 and 1914. You see, Sassafras had become a ghost town when practically everyone in it moved to the cities during the industrial revolution. People demolished the buildings to preserve the land out there. There's something about several rare species of owls or some such nonsense living out there. So the house is within what is now a National Park, basically."

"Oh," Rey said, trying his best to follow along with all this information.

"So aren't you wondering why only that one house is still there if the rest of the town was torn down?" Mr. McMahon coaxed.

"Is it because the house is haunted?" Rey ventured.

Mr. McMahon winked at him. "Right on the money. Supposedly when they tried to tear it down all those years ago, ghosts started pushing workers down the stairs. Scared people off. So it's the only building out there, I'm afraid."

"Is there any indoor plumbing?" Rey asked, knowing there wouldn't be.

Mr. McMahon surprised him. "I'm afraid we only managed to hook up one bathroom in the house. But it's got a sink, toilet, a shower, and a bath tub."

"Oh, Okay. Well…that's great, actually," Rey admitted.

That was much better than he'd expected.

"Okay," Rey said, summing things up. "So I'll tell the guys that it's a house─ or a mansion, sorry─ in a deserted town called Sassafras, Massachusetts?"

God, that was a mouthful of a name for a single location. There were eight s's in there. He counted them in his head.

"Yep. You got it, Rey."

"I'll ask the guys who wants to agree to the special."

"Thank you, Rey."

Rey stood and walked to the door.

He remembered that Michelle McCool was waiting for him out in the hallway, and how nervous she was. He didn't want whatever happened to her to happen to any of the guys.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't promise I'll agree to it. I can't promise that anybody will," Rey warned bracingly, his hand on the doorknob.

Mr. McMahon met his eyes.

"That's fine, Rey. I'd just like you to try."

Rey nodded and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Things were getting odder and odder lately. He wasn't sure he liked this current development about the haunted house.

Rey hung back a bit in the hallway. He saw the nervous Diva while she got a pack of powdered donuts from the vending machine.

He made his footsteps audible so he didn't sneak up on her.

"Michelle?"

He stood beside her. She looked at him, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Can we…can we talk outside?"

"Why? Do you think there are cameras in here or something?" Michelle demanded, her pupils dilating. She whipped around, searching for them.

Rey set his hand gently on her shoulder. "No, no, I don't think that. But it wouldn't matter if there were some in here."

Michelle looked into Rey's eyes. Her mascara was runny. She'd been crying.

"Its okay, Michelle, it wouldn't matter if there were cameras here. They're here for our security, not for Mr. McMahon to spy on us."

Michelle's shoulders relaxed slightly. She searched through his eyes and he didn't look away. It was then that she could tell she was safe with him.

"I'd just like to get some air while we talk about this," Rey assured her.

Michelle nodded and walked out with him.

He watched her carefully to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. He just stood there while she plopped down onto the curb and gave a long exhale.

She pulled out her donuts and unwrapped them.

Rey knew that women tended to have some sort of comfort food. He was very calm about it when he saw them eating it. Most of the guys would tease the Divas if they saw them eating the stuff, because it was usually junk food and everyone in WWE was obsessively health conscious. (Plus guys love to tease girls for no reason.)

But Rey, being married, knew better than to tease. Angie had informed him once that he was prone to eating certain foods and acting a certain way when he was upset, too, so he had no right to judge women for doing that.

The girls tended to seek Rey out for relationship advice because his marriage was so successful. They'd ask him why he respected Angie and what men liked in a relationship.

Rey would usually smile and say, "Whatever makes you both happy is the best thing."

Michelle sought him out for different reasons. He didn't know himself why McCool took a liking to him. She hardly ever took a liking to anybody, but she liked Rey.

Michelle sought him out simply because she knew Rey was one of the few people she could afford to be vulnerable with. She was a tough woman, and in a world with too many overconfident men, she would be laughed at if she ever showed her emotional side to the wrong guy. Rey was not the wrong guy. He didn't know it, but he was drawn to strong-minded, independent women. His mother and his wife Angie were both that way. And they could both be vulnerable with Rey. He understood strong women maybe without really realizing that he did.

He sat down beside her and slipped off his mask, habitually running his fingers over his scalp front to back and then back to front a couple of times.

He looked down at his mask and fingered it, stretching it flat as though he were putting it away.

"Are you all right?" he asked her quietly.

She swallowed. "Yeah. Do I look bad to you?"

That was the test question. If he answered it wrong she wouldn't confide in him and he knew it. The Divas were full of trial questions to rat out the sweet guys from the dirty rotten bastards.

"No, you look good," Rey assured her.

He sighed. "You just look really stressed."

Michelle seemed somewhat distracted. It was a nice day in autumn and the weather was cool but sunny. The air should have warmed her up some.

"You were right," he told her.

"I was?"

Rey nodded. "Mr. McMahon wanted me to talk to the guys about going to that haunted house you were talking about. You were talking about some weird place in Sassafras, Massachusetts, right?"

Michelle smiled at him in spite of herself.

Rey had to make an effort to enunciate the name of that place in order to say it correctly. It was a difficult pronunciation for a West Coast-born Spanish speaker.

"What?" he asked, looking at her.

She shook her head and smiled. "You just sound funny when you say it, Rey."

"Well, there's this place in California called San Buenaventura. I'd like to hear you say that."

"San Buenaventoola?" Michelle tried.

Rey chuckled. "You have to roll your 'r's more in Spanish."

"San Bwenaventura?" Michelle tried again and ended up giggling at herself. "Oh, forget it. I can't say it."

"Same thing. I can't say 'Sassafras', you can't say 'San Buenaventura'."

"Same difference?"

"Yeah," Rey nodded, smiling.

There was a comfortable silence between them.

Michelle sighed after a moment. "It was a really…odd place, Rey."

He looked at her, his expression silently concerned. "He wants me and the guys to film there this coming week."

"You shouldn't."

"Is it that bad?"

Michelle bit into another donut and shook her hair into her eyes so he couldn't see her face clearly.

She shook her head and swallowed. "I don't know…"

"Was it scary?"

Michelle snorted. "Rey, do I honestly look like the type of woman who'd be easily scared off by some schoolgirl bullshit like fake ghosts?"

Rey shook his head. "No."

"Well, that's what I thought I was in for. I even convinced Melina to come along because I told her that it would probably just be a bunch of the tech guys in bed sheets and Mr. McMahon himself under the floorboards making spooky sounds to scare us. I thought it would be fake, and staged out the whazoo. I really did. I thought it would be a piece of cake. Actually, you know what the first thing I did was when I saw a picture of that house?"

Rey shook his head.

"I laughed. I nearly laughed my ass off looking at that photo online, it just looks like some stupid breakaway set on the computer screen."

Michelle swallowed and her smile faded.

She looked at him and there was a sorrow and a fear in her eyes that was unusually heart-wrenching coming from her.

Rey didn't turn away from that look for a second.

"But when you get off that bus, Rey, and you see it in person…it's a different story. It's a beautiful house, Rey, it really is. It's beautiful but it's so, so, old. It's the most beautiful ugly building I've ever seen in my life. Maybe even in the whole world."

She smiled, her lips tinged with melancholy as they turned upwards. She couldn't seem to explain it any better than that.

"Why do you say it's ugly?" Rey asked carefully.

Michelle rustled around in her jacket for a minute. She pulled forth from her pocket a folded pamphlet. It was creased slightly and the binding was softened from it being put to good use.

She held it out to him.

"Take it."

"What is it?" he asked, accepting it from her.

"It's almost like a brochure for the place."

Rey folded it outward very carefully, and saw that the front of it bore a picture of what did in fact look like Hollywood's take on a haunted house set.

It was set against a very blue sky in the background and the rest of the pamphlet was colored in that same blue. It was the saddest, loneliest looking shade of blue they could find. It looked like it must have been tinged with purple at some point in time when it was mixed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what made you think that.

"It's official. Mr. McMahon ordered them from this one travel website based in a town in Massachusetts that sells pamphlets about all the tourist attractions in the whole state. This haunted mansion is one of those 'off the beaten track, little known treasures'. You know those places that are almost like an inside joke to locals. Full of lore and all sorts of bullshit. I don't know if you have that stuff where you're from, Rey. California might be too new for that."

"It's not. You hear stories of haunted Spanish missions every now and then," Rey said quietly, and was about to open the booklet when Michelle set her hand over his, stopping him.

He looked up at her.

"Read it when you're on the bus. It'll give you something to do. If you decide to go there, read it then. But don't read it right now. I don't know if you're the superstitious type, Rey, but that information in there would reel you in to wanting to go there if you are."

"I'm not very superstitious," Rey said. "Religious, yes. Not like…is it like black magic related or something, this house? What is it that's got you so spooked? Maybe I do need to read the stories about it before I decide whether or not to go there."

Michelle shook her head. "You don't need to read it right now. It'll just tempt you. It tempted me."

Rey exhaled. "Then why give it to me? Why give me something I'm not allowed to use?"

"You can use it on the bus if you go, Rey," Michelle repeated. "But just ask me whatever you want to know about that place. I can tell you."

Rey thought for a second. "Are you afraid of it?"

Michelle swallowed. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly.

"Why?"

"It's real," she said limply.

"What do you mean?"

"It's…it's not fake, Rey."

"You mean it's really haunted?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yes."

She knew he'd judge her at this point. She might as well tell him the full extent. At the minute she said 'yes' he would have passed his final judgment anyway.

"There's this little girl, Rey," she began slowly.

There was a depth; a desperation in her voice now. It was that that made Rey listen to her.

"A girl?"

He was thinking of his daughter Aalyah: a beautiful, feminine little thing full of love and blind devotion towards her father. Michelle could see it in his eyes.

"Go on, Michelle," Rey prodded gently. And she saw that he would believe her.

"There's this little girl in an old-timey dress. And it looks new. And she has long blonde hair. She can't speak. But she'll come up to you, I know she will. She's friendly."

"Where are her parents?" Rey asked worriedly.

"She doesn't have a mother. But hope that you never meet her father, Rey."

Rey's expression shifted from confusion to concern again. If there was one thing that worried him on a very personal level it was another man mistreating his family.

"And she's dead, Rey."

He blinked at her in surprise. "What?"

"She's dead. I saw her, but she's dead. Her story is in the pamphlet. She died in the nineteen hundreds."

Rey looked at the thing in his hands as though it were some unspeakably powerful object. Like a crystal ball or a Bible.

He looked back up at Michelle.

"She's dead? You mean she's a ghost?"

Michelle nodded firmly.

"Can you…how did you know? Can she walk through walls? Could you see through her?"

Michelle shook her head. "No. There weren't very many signs. There are just her clothes. I thought they looked old. And there's just that she doesn't talk…"

Rey looked at Michelle, thinking.

_Why doesn't she talk?_

"So it's really haunted?"

"Yes, Rey."

"And that's what scares you?"

"It's not the girl that scares me, Rey. It's just that something very bad happened there. Maybe you could feel it too, if you went there. But I felt it the minute I got in that house. It just felt like a murder scene to me. I know that that's why it's haunted. Something terrible must have happened to the family that lived there. It must have been that little girl's family."

"I should go there too, so that I can confirm your story. So that nobody thinks you're crazy, Michelle. This sounds serious. Did any of the other Divas see any of this stuff? Did they see the girl?"

"They did."

"And they'll admit to it? They're not gonna act like you're crazy and ship you off to some therapy you don't need, will they?"

"I don't think so, Rey, but I don't think you should go."

"Why not? You tell me all this tantalizing information and then you won't let me look at the proof of it when it's sitting right in my own lap! You're forbidding me from going to this place you're telling me stories about! If what you say is true, then why wouldn't you want me to see it, too?"

"It's because it's true that I don't want you to go there! Don't you get that?!" Michelle screamed, her eyes tearing up. She turned away, wiping her eyes.

Rey's face fell.

Carefully, he reached out to her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Michelle…"

She turned slightly towards him but her blonde hair hid her eyes again.

"Michelle, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just…I do believe you. You don't have any reason to lie to me. I know that."

She gazed up at him, her lips trembling. "Rey, you can't go."

"Why not?"

"I mean, you're a grown man, you can go anywhere you want, I'm not forbidding you, I just would prefer it if you didn't go."

"But why, Michelle?" Rey pressed.

"Because I can see it in your eyes. You're already concerned. You care about your kids and so you see them in any kids you meet. You're worried about the girl. And I don't want you to get scared out there. I don't want you to find out that terrible thing that happened to her. I don't. It might break your heart, and I wouldn't want that."

Rey dropped his eyes, embarrassed that he was so easy to read.  
"People tell me I worry too much," he admitted, smiling sadly. "But I…I can't help it."

She put her hand over the one he had resting against her.

He met her eyes again.

"Don't go there, Rey. Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem almost like a woman or something, like you have women's intuition. Like you can sense things. I think you'd be very sensitive to that place and I think it might hurt you."

Rey swallowed. "You don't have kids yet."

She shook her head. "Not that I know of, thank God."

Rey smiled a little at that. "Oh, you'd bet the first to know, believe me. Or you can ask Angie," he said, chuckling at the thought.

Michelle smiled at him.

"But if you ever have kids then call me and let me know if you don't get Spider-senses all of a sudden. I swear to you, I feel like the second they get hurt, I get hurt. No matter how many times they come crying to me, I just give in right away like it's the first time I've seen them that way. You'll panic at every little scratch they get and they'll beg you to get off their backs and stop reminding them to be safe as they get older."

Rey sighed. "I could go on and on. But my point is I feel like my children are a part of me."

"That's because they are," Michelle reminded him.

Rey laughed. "Yeah. But maybe that's why I'm sensitive now compared to when I was younger and on my own. Maybe it's not women's intuition. Maybe it's father's intuition."

"But that's exactly why I don't want you to go, Rey. I don't want you to meet that girl."

Rey shook his head. "I don't know if I'll go or not. If you ask me not to, I won't ever go there my entire life."

Rey crossed his heart.

"I promise you that."

"I won't make you promise. It's your decision. It's up to you."

Rey exhaled through his nose somewhat forlornly.

He thought for a second.

"You know, another thing about being a parent is that there's a certain point. I don't know when it happened, but there was a point in Dominik's life when he suddenly seemed like his own person. He didn't seem like a little me anymore. He seemed like an entirely different person. And it scared me. But…I knew that that was the shadows of how he's going to be as an adult. He's going to have his own life and his own decisions, and his own mistakes to make. And I'll be biting my fingernails the whole time, trust me, but I'll have to let him go one day. It'll be scary then, too. But he is separate from me. He's a part of me, and nobody on earth can change that, but he's separate, too. He's got his own heart to worry about; he can't sit back and worry about hurting his Papi's heart all day long."

Michelle squeezed Rey's hand and he smiled at her gratefully.

"If I take his life too personally, then it's my fault. It's my fault if my heart gets too hurt because of my children's mistakes."

Michelle swallowed and wondered if she could ever manage to be that selfless if she ever became a parent.

"Whatever happens to my heart is not your fault, Michelle."

She stared at him, transfixed.

"Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay, Rey."

Rey looked down at his lap and caught the pamphlet suddenly just before the wind blew it away from him.

"I'll give it back to you later," he promised.

Michelle shook her head. "I don't know if I ever want to see another thing connected to that place ever again."

Rey nodded.

"I'll go talk it over with the guys."

She nodded.

"Should I tell them about the girl?" he asked.

"If you think it'll help. If you think it's appropriate."

"All right."

"Don't you dare tell them I was crying, Rey," she warned all of a sudden.

"But I think some of them might have seen you crying in the hall. Do you want me to li- I mean, what would you like me to say?" Rey asked, correcting himself.

"Tell them I got something in my contact."

"You wear contacts?"

She smiled and shook her hair out of her eyes. "But of course."

Rey smiled. "For the color or for your sight?"

She shrugged. "To see better."

He leaned in close to her teasingly and said, "Now…where are your eyes again?"

She blushed and blew her hair out of her eyes, blowing a little air in his face, too.

He laughed and leaned back. "Oh! Now I see them!"

She grinned and he offered her his hand. She took it and stood up beside him.

"Ready to go back in now?" Rey asked her, shifting his mask and the pamphlet into a different hand.

"Yeah, I feel better."

"That's good."

They started to walk back.

"Rey, why do you wear contacts in the ring, anyway?"

"Because nobody can see my damn eyes otherwise," he admitted with a sigh.

"Who cares? I love your eyes!"

Rey smiled. "You're the only one outside my family who does; my irises are practically black."

"There's nothing wrong with them!"

"No, there's nothing wrong with them," Rey agreed. "I just don't like them. Everybody has eyes like this. Everybody's got brown eyes. It's not really a nice color when you see it on every single person you meet. You get sick of it. Plus they're so dark it looks like I don't have any pupils. "

Michelle chuckled and shook her head. She walked backwards and got in front of him.

"Rey," she said.

"Yeah?"

"I don't care what you say; nobody has brown eyes like your big brown doe eyes."

Rey smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Michelle."


	3. The Smack heard Round the World

Chapter 3: The Smack Heard 'Round the World

"Keep your pants on. And I mean that literally," Rey said when he reentered the men's locker room.

"Where were you? The rest of us are all showered and dressed and packed up already, what took you so long?" Shawn Michaels asked impatiently.

"I see that," Rey said, sighing. "God, I'll just shower at the hotel, later I guess…" he muttered as he packed up his duffel bag, tucking his mask into the bag atop everything else. He was always careful with his masks; treating them with respect almost as though they were alive somehow.

"Well, where were you?" Batista pressed, coming closer to Rey. The smaller wrestler shied out of the way.

"I went and had a talk with Michelle McCool, then I got debriefed by Mr. McMahon, and then Michelle and I went out to get some air," Rey summed up succinctly.

"Why did you do that?" Edge asked, frowning.

"Yeah, Rey, what the hell motivated you to do that?" Batista demanded.

"She looked upset to me," Rey explained.

"Rey, you would feel sorry for a lion with its paw in a trap even though it would still try to bite your face off," Shawn informed him.

Rey frowned at him. "Michelle's a good person. And that's a terrible metaphor. Lions are beautiful animals, why wouldn't I try to save one?"

Shawn shook his head. Rey had just accidentally proved his point.

"I like lions," Randy Orton put in and Jeff Hardy nodded, biting on his thumbnail.

"Me too."

"Don't go spilling your guts to her, Rey-Rey. She's a man-eater," Cena warned.

Rey rolled his eyes. "She needed a shoulder to lean on. She needed to talk to somebody. You guys make her out to be such a witch. She's not, I'm telling you. She's just not a people-person."

Shawn snorted. "That's the understatement of the year."

"Whatever. At the end of the day, my conscience is clear because I talked to her," Rey stated.

"Mine is too," Shawn said seriously.

Triple H snorted. "Then you need to have your conscience looked at. 'Cause it is _definitely_ not working right."

"I felt better that she talked to me, she seemed like she needed to get what she told me off of her chest," Rey insisted.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

Rey swore under his breath in Spanish.

Shawn was so hostile today. What the hell was going on with him?

"All right, do you want to hear what Michelle was upset about and what Mr. McMahon wanted to talk to me about? Because it's the same thing."

They all crowded around and listened in.

"Go on, Rey," Batista urged.

Rey held up the pamphlet he'd gotten from Michelle.

He explained about the haunted mansion of Sassafras, Massachusetts and how it really was haunted. He told them everything Mr. McMahon had told him, including that they could all opt out of doing the special. But if they participated they would have to stay out there in the middle of nowhere for a week no matter what.

Unfortunately, everyone had the opposite reaction from what Rey was expecting.

"I'm in," John Cena said.

Triple H wanted in and so did Shawn Michaels.

Rey frowned. "Look, I don't think you guys know how scary this place is. _Michelle fucking McCool _was scared by this place. She saw a ghost there. And she got creepy feelings, and she didn't like it at all. She wanted to leave, a lot of the girls did, but once they got there to film the special they weren't allowed to leave. It will be the same case with us. Once we get there, that's it."

"Have you decided whether or not to go yet?" Jeff asked Rey.

Rey shook his head. "No, I haven't decided yet."

"Come on, man, you should come. It'll be fun," Triple H badgered.

Rey didn't say anything.

"Come on, dawg, I want to hear you scream…" Cena teased.

Batista elbowed John away from Rey.

"Don't even joke about that, you pervert!" Dave warned.

Rey sighed. "It's all up to you whether or not you want to go. But it _is _haunted."

"Are you serious, Rey? You're actually taking her word for it? You actually believe that a building can be haunted?" Edge asked incredulously.

"I don't believe in ghosts _personally_, no, but yes, I do believe Michelle."

Batista exhaled. "Rey, man, you've gotta stop thinking that everybody is always telling you the truth. Not everyone's as honest as you."

Rey shook his head. "No, you're not listening to me. I've never seen her that upset before. She meant every word she said, there's no way she was lying. She had no reason to lie about how scared she was by that place."

"Fuck that shit, Rey-Rey. She just didn't want you in the special. She wanted you off the air," John Cena insisted.

It was no use, they wouldn't believe him.

"Was she really upset, Rey?" Jeff asked, biting on his fingernail, looking Rey right in the face with big, puppy dog eyes.

Rey thought maybe there was some hope of convincing Jeff not to go.

"Yes, she was very upset."

"Then I'm going," Jeff said, bouncing up and down. "I need adrenaline! Nothing fun has happened here in forever! I haven't had a ladder match in forever! I need adrenaline!"

Now people were literally dividing up onto sides of the room. They were by Rey and his locker if they weren't going or if they were undecided and they were by John Cena if they had decided to go.

Rey sighed hopelessly.

"What made you think she was serious, Rey?" Batista asked him. He was still undecided.

"Was she crying?"

Shit. It would totally convince a lot of the guys not to go if they knew that Michelle McCool had been brought to tears over that house. They'd seen the woman break bones and get up and walk away with not so much as a complaint.

But then again, that same reputation was what made Rey promise to Michelle that he wouldn't say he saw her crying.

_Goddamn it, girl, putting me between a rock and a hard place. _Rey thought, frustrated.

"No, she wasn't crying. She just got something in her contact," Rey lied reluctantly.

Batista narrowed his eyes at Rey. "Oh, really? What did she get in it?"

"Mascara," Rey said quickly. He was surprising himself today by getting progressively better at lying.

Batista shrugged. "Whatever."

"If you're a man, you'll go," John Cena insisted. "I mean, we've basically got all the dudes over here going. Y'all should all just go ahead and come."

"Hey, we're not getting into that high school bullshit! Nobody's playing chicken here!" Rey protested.

But it was too late, little Randy Orton ran over to the other side, not wanting to be made fun of.

In all, it was Triple H, Shawn Michaels, John Cena, Randy Orton, Jeff Hardy, Edge, Chris Jericho and C.M. Punk that had decided to attend the filming for the haunted house special.

Rey didn't like this one bit. A bunch of the younger guys would be over there without his supervision and at the mercy of Shawn "psychotic, scheming, old pervert" Michaels, Triple H, who lived for starting random fights at the worst possible time, and John Cena, who was fucking huge and normally calm but when left to his own devices in a large group of other men regressed into a sadistic frat boy.

No, Rey didn't like the look of this one bit.

Batista, seeing that no one else was siding with Rey, and not seeing why Rey hadn't made a decision yet, stepped over to the other side.

"All right, why not? I'm going."

That was the very last straw. Rey opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say anything.

The last thing he wanted was for Dave to put himself in a stressful situation right now. His anger management had calmed him somewhat but it was in its infancy, and there was no telling what he would do if the house was really haunted like Michelle said.

It would be a hostile environment. And everyone knows that hostile people with fragile psyches do not need to be exposed to a hostile environment.

Dave could very well freak out and kill everyone if he saw a ghost.

Rey thought about this while the other guys were all over on the other side of the room, talking and jeering.

"I'm coming."

"What?" Cena asked, pausing.

"What did you say, Rey-Rey?"

"I said I'm coming with you," Rey said half-heartedly and walked out with his things, shaking his head. "Goddamn it."

They all stopped talking and blinked at each other in confusion once they realized he'd left for the hotel.

"Man, he really did believe Michelle, didn't he?" Triple H asked no one in particular.

"Yeah, he did," Batista said, swallowing.

Something was wrong.

John Cena shrugged. "Aw, no biggie. Rey-Rey will know she lied when he sees the house."

He turned to Shawn. "Man, you said you had a conscience. There's no fuckin' _way_ you have a damn conscience. If you do, it's probably the stolen extra conscience off of Rey-Rey."

Shawn sighed. "God knows he worries about enough things, he doesn't need to worry about that conniving blonde telling him ghost stories."

"Sounds a lot like someone I know," Triple H reminded Shawn, tossing his friend's blondish-brown hair. "Especially the conniving part."

Shawn glared at him.

"What does he see in her?" Batista asked quietly.

Shawn Michaels' eyes lit up. He saw another opportunity to mess with Dave Batista's head and damn it, he would never pass those chances up.

"He likes people that are taller than him," Shawn said, winking.

Batista blinked.

Triple H rolled his eyes. "No offense to Rey, but it's not hard to be taller than him. I really doubt that's his only criteria."

"You shut it or you're not going to get the nookie I promised you tonight," Shawn said to Triple H through clenched teeth and a tight Miss America grin.

"Yes, dear," Triple H said and shut it.

"How much taller than Rey-Rey is Michelle?" Cena asked thoughtfully.

"Michelle's 5'10''," someone recalled. "She's tall for a girl."

"Maybe she's not a girl," Triple H said suspiciously.

Cena elbowed him, hinting that he was about to make a perverted in-joke.

"I doubt Rey-Rey's complaining about the height difference, that puts his eye line right about _here_ on Michelle," Cena said, gesturing to his chest and winking.

They all sniggered. "We should try Rey's point of view sometime."

"Man, you're lucky that you're not Rey's size, somebody would have totally killed you by now, Cena," Edge joked.

"Yeah, you're lucky that the rest of you is as big as your mouth, 'cause otherwise you'd never be able to back up some of the trash talk you say," Batista agreed, laughing.

Cena shrugged innocently. "Who, me?"

"Now Rey's height is…" Shawn said, changing the subject back to everyone's favorite piece of eye candy.

"Rey's 5'6''," they all said together.

"Five feet and six inches of caramel-skinned goodness," Batista reminded them.

"Travel-sized for your convenience," Shawn said, winking.

Batista shifted around uncomfortably. If he didn't want anyone else's input on Rey, he realized, he should just have held his tongue. But it was too late now.

"With sweet chocolate eyes," Randy said, sighing.

"And a sugary disposition," C.M. Punk added.

"Great tattoos, like icing on top of a cake," Triple H said dreamily.

"And beautiful arms," Randy put in.

"A toned body," Chris Jericho noted a little jealously.

"Soft, soft, lips," Edge said, sighing.

"A cute ass," Cena said, grinning.

They all sniggered and dwelled on that thought for a bit.

"A very hot chest," Jericho said.

"Muy caliente attitude," Jeff giggled.

"Calm and mature, like California wine," Punk said poetically.

"Did we mention his ass?" Cena said again.

They all burst into laughter.

Batista glared at everyone. "SHUT IT. Nobody talks about Rey like that but me, okay?"

"Man, what's wrong, we always talk about Rey-Rey 'like that'," Cena said defensively and squared his shoulders. "Why? You want to start a discussion with me about our free speech?"

Batista glared at him. "Oh, you don't want to start_ anything_ with me, you posing little white New England bitch."

Oh no.

"Ah, hell, no, you fuckin' steroid-abusin' broken marriaged, closet-case broken-down, dumbass motherfucker!"

Oh, it was so on now.

Everybody scrambled out of the way as Batista barreled straight into Cena's windpipe.

Rey started. He was just saying goodbye to Michelle as he heard crashing sounds from out in the hallway.

"So you said you decided to go?" Michelle asked, trying to gain Rey's attention back.

"I-yeah. Yeah. I'm sorry Michelle," Rey said, distractedly. "I had better- I…sorry," he said lamely, motioning towards the men's locker room and setting his bag down.

Michelle gave him a quick hug. He squeezed her.

"I'll be all right, Michelle. I promise."

She nodded. "Okay. Just let me know when you get back. You can tell me the whole thing. Maybe we could trade stories."

Rey smiled sadly. "I'll do that."

Another crash.

Rey whipped towards the sound.

"You had better get your women under control in there," Michelle said, laughing. "Its okay, Rey, go get 'em. I'll see you later," she assured him and walked out.

"Bye, Michelle."

Rey dashed back towards the locker room.

"Jesus Cristo, I leave for one tiny instant and-"

Rey slammed the door open.

Batista was on top of Cena, virtually choking the life out of him.

Luckily they made the benches out of metal now, (Mr. McMahon had learned his lesson after a few locker room brawls had broken out) and so those weren't broken.

"Hi, Rey!" Randy waved from up atop the lockers, squished in the little nook between the lockers and the ceiling. No one could quite figure out how Randy Orton, who was not a high flier, managed to climb up onto so many tall things to escape from people.

Jeff was crammed up in the same place but on the opposite side of the room. Punk had managed to stick to the wall and everybody else stayed in corners to avoid the carnage.

Rey watched the back-and-forth for a second, waiting for an opening to dive in.

"You don't have your name on him, yet, motherfucker!" Cena screamed and rammed Batista into the lockers.

"_Who…has their fucking name… on who_?!" Rey said icily through clenched teeth.

"They're talking about you…" Triple H admitted reluctantly.

One of them blinked and almost had to ask 'where's Rey?' but unfortunately they heard him when he got there.

THWACK.

CRUNCH.

"REY-REY! Get your fucking foot off my face, man, I'm on your side, motherfucker!" Cena yelped desperately, trying to shake Rey off, but the luchador was concentrating all of his one hundred and seventy-five pounds onto the side of John Cena's temple, pinning him.

"Neither of you are on my goddamn side! Now, get up!"

"Rey-Rey, I'd be glad to get up, just get the fuck up off my face, man, please…"

"Not YOU! You can stay down there all night until I decide to get off you!"

"DAVE! GET YOUR ASS UP!" Rey shouted.

Sheepishly, Batista picked himself up off the floor.

He was a little battered and bruised here and there, but he seemed fine.

He wouldn't meet Rey's eyes. This was like being caught fighting by his high school principal all over again, except he'd never wanted to win his high school principal's heart. (In all fairness, that lady had been much older than Rey at the time, so she was never even in the cuteness contest to begin with.)

"Get. Over. Here."

Batista opened his mouth to protest.

"I don't want to hear it, Dave."

Batista shut his trap. He shuffled closer towards Rey, who currently had one foot planted so firmly onto John Cena's cranium that he could do a Captain Morgan commercial or pose for an "adorable king of ass-kicking" statue.

"Closer to me."

Batista obeyed until he was within a foot of Rey.

Rey motioned for him to lean his head in and Batista complied.

Rey backhanded him so hard that everyone in the locker room winced.

"Oooh, Jesus, that's gonna leave one hell of a mark," Triple H muttered.

Batista stumbled backwards. He reached up to hold onto his sore jaw, assuming it was still there.

Everyone was surprised, but no one as much as Dave. Rey hardly ever hit Batista and when he did it was utterly undisputable that he deserved it.

"Congratulations, you lasted about two seconds without me in the room before getting in a fight," Rey said sarcastically.

Batista touched his cheek and pulled his hand away; it stung terribly. "I'm sorry, Rey."

And while he blinked, shocked by how strong the smaller man was because he hadn't been punished by Rey in so long, he thought to himself that he might actually have been kind of turned on by that slap.

"_Now_ you can get up," Rey told Cena. He removed his foot and Cena stood.

Rey smacked him too and Cena nearly tripped over a bench and ended up back on the floor again, panting and holding his cheek just like Batista.

"OW! Fuck! Whatcha hittin me for?" he exclaimed.

"Because Dave only got a warning from some sweet little psychiatrist not to start fights. _You_ got a warning directly from _me_!"

Cena swallowed. "I don't really remember that, Rey-Rey, I-"

"WHAT DID I SAY?!" Rey screamed, holding his hand up again threateningly.

Cena flinched. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! You told me not to fuck with Dave while he was going through anger management! Sorry!"

Rey put his hand down.

"You really told him that, Rey?" Batista asked, in awe.

"Yes, I did, but a lot of good that did. This pendejo can't get it through his thick skull that I _mean what I say_," Rey growled at Cena, who backed away.

"Now _apologize_, both of you."

"Sorry I said you were a poser and a bitch," Batista muttered to Cena, blushing that Rey was right there to hear the insults he'd flung.

Rey quirked an eyebrow at that.

"It's okay. Sorry I called you a steroid-abusin broken marriaged, closet-case broken-down, dumbass motherfucker," Cena said, wincing, because he knew Rey wouldn't like the sound of that at all.

"It's okay," Batista said.

Rey punched Cena in the stomach. Hard.

"I oughta kick you in the _you know where_ for that," Rey said venomously. "Talking about people's private lives, Jesus, what's wrong with you?!"

Cena rubbed his stomach and coughed. "I know, I know. Sorry. My bad."

Rey shook his head disappointedly at the two of them.

"And don't you think I didn't hear you guys talking about who _owns_ me, 'cause I heard it! If I catch any of you talking about me like I'm some sex object then God help me, I will _murder_ you and make Jimmy Hoffa's story look like an after-school special! You got me?!"

Everyone nodded frantically.

"If anybody owns anybody here, _you_ own _us_, Rey, don't worry," Triple H blurted, assuring him.

Rey smiled at that in spite of himself.

He huffed and rolled his shoulders.

"Now get your shit and get out of here," he ordered. "We're going to the hotel. And then we're going to godforsaken fucking Sassafras, Massachusetts tomorrow, so you had all better be ready for that in the morning."

They all gathered their things together and stood with their backs up against the lockers.

"Well, what are you waiting on me for? Get going!" Rey shouted.

They all poured out as fast as they could.

Batista stayed behind.

"Rey, they broke rules one and two," Batista said insistently.

"I can't talk about rules one and two…" Rey said, staring at Batista suspiciously.

"What do you mean? You made rules one and two!"

Rey frowned at him, confused. "Wait, don't you mean 'don't talk about fight club'?"

"NO!"

"Oh. What rules then, Dave?"

"Rule one was no looking at you funny and rule two was no talking about how you look!"

Rey sighed. "I didn't give out like any official list, Dave. God…I just meant that I have guidelines for what I feel is and is not okay for you guys to do in front of me."

"Well, they're breaking the 'no daydreaming' rule."

Rey sighed. "I just said 'in front of me'. They were doing that when I was out of the room? Why did you have to tell me that, Dave? I'd rather not know."

"But, Rey-"

"_No_."

"All right…"

"They're not trying to kidnap me are they?" Rey asked hesitantly when Batista seemed a little too let down by not being allowed to speak about the alleged daydreaming.

"Not yet they're not."

"Good. Then no. I don't want to know."

There was an awkward silence and Rey sighed and picked up his things again.

"I'm sorry, Rey."

Rey softened.

"I know, Dave, I know. It's all right. Well… it's not all right. You need to find a better outlet for your anger than hurting people. But I understand why you went off on Cena. I had to smack him myself, that was terrible some of that stuff he said."

Batista nodded. "Yeah."

"You're none of that stuff he called you, okay?" Rey told Dave, setting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Cena just has a smart mouth; I don't know where he learned how to insult people like that."

Dave nodded. "It's cool, Rey, I know. I know that it's not true."

Rey smiled. "Good."

"I am divorced as hell though," Batista reminded him, grinning, as they walked out the door together.

Rey laughed. "Don't look at_ me_ when you say that, I'm not marrying you!"


	4. Mr McMahon’s Worst Idea Ever

Chapter 4: Mr. McMahon's Worst Idea Ever 

Day One at the Haunted House

Vince McMahon had the brilliant idea of having a ring-less, stadium-less, low-budget-filmed haunted house sleepover with several cast members from Raw and Smackdown that would be aired as a three hour special in place of Monday night Raw the night before Halloween.

They were all going to be stuck out in the haunted house for seven days, regardless of what happened. They would have no way to leave. And the house was literally in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, and before they'd gotten on the bus, Mr. McMahon had made them hand over any and all communication devices.

Rey had started at that. "What? Why no cell phones?"

"Because your fear will be more realistic if you have no way to talk to the outside world."

Rey looked reluctantly at his cell phone in his hand.

Meanwhile, John Cena was cussing a blue streak as he tossed a cell, a sidekick, a blackberry, and two back-up phones into the basket that Mr. McMahon was holding.

Everyone else had no more than two devices and they handed them over with a few grumbles.

"Cena, why the hell do you have so many electronics on your person, anyway?" Mr. McMahon demanded.

Cena shrugged.

"He keeps breaking his phones," Randy explained.

Everyone sighed.

Mr. McMahon looked at Rey, who was the last one who hadn't given up his phone.

He narrowed his eyes at the luchador. "Mysterio, fork it over. I don't have all day."

Rey bit his lip and looked up. "Sir, are you sure this is necessary? We won't have any way to talk to our families, or you, or even contact 911 services out there if we don't have our cells."

Everyone thought about that. They hadn't considered that they might not be able to get help in an emergency until Rey had said that.

Cena shuffled over to Mr. McMahon and made a move to take at least one of his cell phones back.

Mr. McMahon jerked the basket out of Cena's reach.

Then he looked at Rey's big, shiny brown eyes imperiously. Everyone else was taken in by those big doe eyes, but not him.

"Don't you make those goo-goo eyes at me, Mysterio. Reality TV bosses pull this crap every day. I take better care of you louts than those people, so be grateful for that. Besides, like reality TV stars, it's in your contract that you will relinquish cell phones to me upon my request."

"But it doesn't say about emergencies, and-"

"Mysterio, are you challenging me about the technicalities of your contract?"

"No! No, Sir."

Rey didn't want to be in imminent danger of losing his job, or of being kicked off the trip to film the special. He turned off his cell.

Rey placed his phone carefully into the basket and stepped back, grabbing onto his arm awkwardly with dropped eyes.

He'd boarded the bus along with everyone else and sat down with an anxious look on his face.

**

"This is some gay-ass shit, I can tell you right now," Cena declared the minute they got off the bus.

For once, no one argued with him. The house/ mansion before them was an eerie gray color and ridiculously beat up. It had several stories and a crooked chimney and a leaky roof with graying wooden shingles. It looked like if the house could have had its pulse taken it would either be declared dead or in a serious coma.

Rey set foot off the bus and noticed goose bumps rise up on his arm almost immediately. He rubbed his arms and realized he wasn't cold. He didn't know quite what to make of that except that it was definite sign that he felt strange. He felt…like there were eyes on him. Something compelled him to look up at the house.

He froze.

There was a face in the attic window. It was shock white. A little girl. He blinked and it ─or she─ vanished.

"¿Qué es esto?" Rey said under his breath. "What is that?"

He shuddered and looked away from the house. He disliked it already.

"Rey, what's up?" Batista asked him, coming over. "You don't look so hot. Is something wrong?"

Rey shook his head. "I…I thought I saw something. It was probably nothing. I think I'm seeing what I want to see. I don't know, this place, it…"

"Creeps you out?"

"I have goose bumps for no reason, so yeah," Rey confirmed.

Batista frowned. He hated it when Rey felt uncomfortable and he especially hated it when Rey was uncomfortable for intangible reasons. Dave usually liked to be able to think he could solve Rey's problems by punching someone in the face. When it was nobody's fault that Rey felt apprehensive, but it was a haunted house's fault, Dave had nothing to do but just sit there and glare resentfully at the building.

Rey noticed the camera people had disembarked from the back of the bus. They'd kept to themselves on the ride over. They usually did. They were typically more artsy, sarcastic people and didn't get along with the wrestlers, who were generally far more literal and butch and…sugar high, evidently, because most of them were milling around at the speed of light.

Jeff was attempting to climb a tree already. One minute on solid ground and he was already bored and feeling the need to become elevated. Randy Orton was assisting Jeff in the climbing by boosting him up.

Shawn Michaels and Triple H were arguing about God knows what, but Shawn was usually arguing with _somebody_.

Cena and Edge and Jericho were all arguing too, and Rey _really_ did not want to know what that fight was about or to get in the middle of it. (He was right to have the sneaking suspicion that the fight was about him, because it always was).

C.M. Punk looked like the caricature of the angry teenage son who hates his family and was sitting on the porch listening to punk rock music on his ipod, staring apathetically at everyone's chaos.

Rey sighed.

He realized the cameramen were sniggering and pointing in his direction because of the Spanish he'd muttered earlier.

He straightened up.

There was always some crazy culture-deprived white person hating on Spanish speakers.

Rey cleared his throat as he walked over.

"Yeah, the 'Spanish speaking one' is in charge," he told them, weaving his fingers together and bending his palms outward so that all of his knuckles cracked at the same time.

They all blinked at him, surprised that he'd heard them and more than a little embarrassed. Plus the knuckle-cracking made it suddenly evident that Rey may have been compact and Hispanic but he was also very well-built.

While the cameramen were all wondering why Rey would possibly claim to be in charge when several other guys looked more capable, Edge took that opportunity to run full-force into the tree because a bee was chasing him. This helped immensely to dispel any doubts they might have about Rey's qualifications compared to the other guys'.

Rey ignored the noise, seemingly used to it.

He smiled warmly, immediately disarming them. "Call me Rey."

He shook all of their hands.

"Uh, yeah, hi. I'm Donald," the first one said.

The second one introduced himself as Fred and the third one, the only black guy, introduced himself as Andre.

Rey nodded.

"Okay. Nice to meet you. I was just wondering, uh, how exactly are you guys planning on filming this?"

"With cameras," Donald said sarcastically.

Rey crossed his arms and chuckled dryly. "Yeah, uh, I figured. I mean, like, obviously this can't be too large-scale of a project with only three cameramen, no offense. So are you going guerilla style with hidden cameras planted in the house or are you all filming individually or all three cameras synchronized to film the same thing but at different angles?"

They all blinked at him again; shocked that Rey even knew that there was such a thing as guerilla-style filming.

He stared at them, calmly awaiting an answer.

"Ah, well, we were all planning on filming one or two people at a time."

"So do you want me to get everybody into groups for you?" Rey asked, already a step ahead of them.

"Sure, that would be great," Andre grinned, already won over by Rey.

"No problem. Catch you later," Rey said and wandered a few yards away before shouting at everybody at the top of his lungs.

"EVERYBODY GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE PLEASE!"

Everyone promptly scrambled their asses over there.

Edge was rubbing his forehead.

"Did that bee ever leave you alone, man?" Triple H asked him.

"Yeah," Edge answered. "But now my head hurts."

"That's what happens when you don't watch where you're going," Punk reminded him.

Edge flipped him off.

"Oooh, a rated R gesture from the Rated R Superstar," Shawn noted, chuckling.

Rey sighed. "_Anyway_…the camera guys told me they're each going to film small groups, so we need to divide up."

Everyone started acting like they were in grade school and went and stood beside the person they wanted to be in group with. Altogether, ten of them had disembarked off of that bus, so they could divide into up to five groups.

Needless to say, Batista immediately set his hand onto Rey's shoulder, claiming him.

"As if I didn't know _that_ would happen," Rey reacted coolly and watched everyone else congregate.

Batista shrugged. "Well then, it can't hurt to state the obvious. I'm with you."

"Gotcha," Rey noted.

Jeff Hardy bolted over to C.M. Punk's side and locked arms with him.

Cena grabbed Edge and Chris Jericho wandered over to them.

Triple H ruffled HBK's hair and said, "Looks like it's you and me, brother."

Randy shuffled over to the two and said, "Can I tag along?"

Triple H sighed exasperatedly. "Okay, fine."

Randy smiled happily. "Thanks! I'll be good!"

So altogether there were four groups, half with pairs, and half with three people.

THE FOUR GROUPS

Jeff Hardy and C.M. Punk

Rey and Batista

Chris Jericho, Edge and John Cena

Randy Orton, Triple H and HBK

The cameramen sniggered at the sight of a bunch of heavyweights taking orders from Rey, who was obviously not as tall or bulky as the others.

Cena narrowed his eyes in their direction.

"Rey-Rey, do you want me to go take those camera bitches out for you? 'Cause they're laughing at you over there."

Rey shrugged. "No, its fine, Cena, I'm used to people getting an attitude with me. Sticks and stones."

"I'm gonna _throw_ some sticks and stones if they don't shut the fuck up in a sec," Cena muttered. "Talkin' 'bout my Rey-Rey like he ain't nothin'….I'll cut them bitches, I swear to God."

Rey sighed. "Chill."

They all wandered back over to the cameramen.

Once again, Rey spoke on everyone's behalf.

"We're gonna go check out the house and set our stuff down in there. Feel free to do the same."

Rey turned around and headed for the front door.

Everyone set their bags in the living room. Punk volunteered himself and Jeff to go upstairs and check some things out, and the camera crew followed, thinking that they might start filming already.

Everyone else besides Batista ran back outside. Rey looked at Batista solemnly as he stretched and plopped himself down onto a couch, trying to portray himself as aloof, but Rey could tell he was bursting with unspent energy.

Batista looked like a puma in a zoo that was trying to remain calm. His huge muscular body kept fidgeting at the extremities, reminding Rey of a big cat twitching the tip of its tail. He had his elbows bent and his palms resting behind his head at one end of the couch and his big, booted feet up on the other end. His tall body took up every single inch of the couch and somehow managed not to collapse under his bulk.

Rey almost wanted to tell Batista to get his feet off of the throw pillow and take off his shoes when he was sitting on the sofa, but Rey remembered that this wasn't his house, so it wasn't his business what people did to the furniture.

Besides, the living room couches and chairs were obviously new. They'd been brought in and all of the old furniture in the house had been taken away so that the wrestlers didn't break the artifacts. Mr. McMahon probably expected them to destroy the new furniture. He had probably factored that into the budget for the special.

So Batista looked like a big, bored panther.

Rey, on the other hand, looked like an anxious mother not knowing how to busy herself while her children were all off on their own.

He frowned anxiously and messed with the mask that he always kept in his pocket.

He turned and walked into the kitchen. He realized that they had taken all of the luggage and all of the coolers off of the bus, but that none of the food or drinks had been brought inside yet. That was something to do.

Minutes later there was an earsplitting crash and the sound of camera equipment flying through the air and then not landing well.

"Did I just hear a noise that involved physical harm to somebody?" Rey demanded, running in from the kitchen.

"Rey, didn't you say that the ghosts here supposedly throw people down the stairs?" Batista asked him.

"Yeah, why?"

Batista shrugged. "Well, that didn't take long."

"What didn't take long?"

"For people to be thrown down the stairs."

Rey blinked at him in disbelief. "_Who_ was?! Are they okay? Are they hurt?"

"The camera guys," Batista explained lazily and crossed his legs.

"All three of them?! What, at like the same time?"

Batista nodded. "Yep. Afraid so."

Rey dashed over to the stairs.

Before he could ask them if they were all right, they bolted out the front door. Rey blinked, surprised.

"Why did they leave their equipment behind?" he asked Batista.

Dave just shrugged from the couch and scratched his chest.

Rey stepped carefully over the pieces of a broken camera and picked up a more solid one.

"If they're all like this one, then they're fried."

"What do you mean, 'fried'?" Batista asked, standing up and coming over to supervise. He didn't like the look of Rey picking through sharp, broken pieces of electronics with his bare hands.

He was right not to.  
"Ow," Rey flinched as he pricked his finger unscrewing a piece of the camera to look at the energy cell in the back.

"Rey!" Dave yelped. "Let me see that," he held out his hand.

"Don't be such an abuela, Dave," Rey complained in Spanglish, sucking on his injured finger. He only tasted blood for a second before the pressure of his tongue stopped it.

Batista tried not to blush at the sight of Rey doing something so adorable.

"The battery's drained. And this is a heavy-duty thing, it can't drain within minutes like this," Rey noted.

Batista went and dug through their first aid kit in the living room and came back with some disinfectant spray and a band aid.

"What the hell is an 'abuela'?" Batista asked, raising an eyebrow as he took Rey's wrist and pulled his hand away from his mouth. Rey sighed and set the camera down on the floor, relinquishing his injured hand to Batista.

"A grandmother," Rey said impatiently.

Batista snorted as he examined the cut briefly and sprayed the wound, gingerly wrapping the band aid around Rey's fingertip before reluctantly giving Rey his hand back.

"They _thought_ it all fried," C.M. Punk called from the top of the stairs.

He and Jeff were going to be the first group to be filmed, and now they were going to be the first to be thoroughly disappointed about not being filmed.

Jeff was right behind him in a second, biting on his thumbnail as usual.

"Yeah, they thought it did, but I'm not entirely sure it did," he agreed in his thick southern accent.

Neither Batista nor Rey knew quite what those two were talking about.

Rey exhaled. "Well, that _was_ fast, Dave, you said it."

"What was fast?" Batista asked densely.

Rey started counting off three fingers one by one. "Our cameras are gone, which means the special is not gonna be filmed. Our camera_ crew_ is gone which means our only link of communication to the outside world is nonexistent. And if I'm right, then in about five seconds our transport is gonna be gone, too."

They heard tires screeching. Their transport was _so_ gone.

"I _told_ all you people and you never, ever listen," Rey said, rolling his eyes and walking back into the kitchen.

"I said we'll be stuck out here for a whole week if something goes wrong, and it _has._ NO ONE listens. Never ever ever," he rambled as he strode out of the living room.

"EVER!" he shouted from the kitchen finally.

Batista shook his head. "Oh, well. I can think of worse things than being trapped in a house in the middle of nowhere with Rey for a week."

Jeff clapped his hands giddily. "Oooh! This is gonna be so much fun!"

John Cena barreled through the front door, followed by the rest of the guys.

"OH MY GOD," he said.

"What?" Batista asked him, perplexed and slightly creeped out.

"My Rey-Rey senses are tingling. Did Rey-Rey just say something important again?" Cena said with a frighteningly straight face.

"You have 'Rey-Rey senses'?!" Batista rasped incredulously. "_What_? Are you high?!"

"Rey said that its official that we're stuck out here for a week. The camera guys are gone, along with our bus and any way to contact Mr. McMahon. And the cameras' batteries are drained so the special's not happening, Cena," Punk explained succinctly.

"The ghosts pushed the camera guys down the stairs," Jeff added. "It was sweet. I heard 'bump bump bump' and then 'crash'." He grinned. That was adorable despite the fact that his little scrambled adrenaline-addicted brain was thinking of human beings in agony.

"Everyone in this whole house is fucking insane," Batista muttered and rubbed his eyelids.

"Hey, Dave! I just remembered something!" Rey shouted.

"What?"

"Do you have any way to contact Dr. Jimenez?"

Batista twiddled his thumbs, luxuriating in the sound of Rey pronouncing "Jimenez" with his Californian Spanish accent.

"Dave?" Rey called again.

"Uh…no…?" Batista admitted and grimaced, knowing he might just get his ass handed to him over this one.

Rey came back into the living room.

"Are you serious?" he said.

Batista smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Uh…yeah."

Rey surveyed his friend suspiciously. "You realize that means that you're not allowed to get angry this entire week, right?"

Batista gulped. "Uh…"

Rey shook his head. "Ay, Dios mio…" he muttered and wandered back into the kitchen.

Batista followed him this time. "Rey, what the hell are you doing in here, anyway?"

"We have like ten coolers of food for the week and some other bags of stuff that doesn't need to be kept cool that I brought in," Rey answered him.

"You could have asked me for some help. Jeez, you're acting like you're our Den Mother or something."

"I am not. I'm just nervous. I try to stay busy with random tasks when I'm nervous. So don't help, you'll just make me stress out more," Rey explained.

Batista sighed and held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine."

Rey scurried out and came in with an enormous box that was roughly the same size as his entire torso.  
"Rey, that's like half your weight and like an eighth of mine," Batista said, exaggerating just a tad and feeling horribly guilt-tripped to just stand there and watch Rey move everything in.

"Either you are _horrible _at math or you are way fatter than you look," Rey responded dryly.

Batista snorted. "Just let me carry it."

"No," Rey said and scurried around Dave, triumphantly setting it down.

"That's the last one anyway."

Batista sighed. "You're still stubborn."

Rey crossed his arms. "Dave, I'm seriously worried about you not being able to contact Dr. Jimenez."

Dave suppressed a shiver at Rey pronouncing "Jimenez" in that sexy Spanish accent again. It was like audio-porn for him.

Batista gulped. "Uh, I don't think you should be worried. Really, I've been doing fine."

"You have been talking to her, haven't you? Like, you've explained your whole situation? With your life? With dealing with the other guys? With…with me?"  
Batista nodded. "Yeah, I told her everything."

Rey nodded and covered his mouth in thought for a second. "You're sure you'll be okay?"

"Okay in what way, Rey? You're not being very explicit with me," Batista said, meanwhile trying to think of ways to trick Rey into speaking some more Spanish for his listening pleasure.

"I mean, like, I hope you won't start massacring people. Maybe you should limit yourself. Maybe _I _should put limits on you. Maybe you shouldn't be allowed to swear for this week, maybe that gets you going overboard and could lead to bad things, and-"

"Hey! No fair! You could be swearing in Spanish all week long and we'd never notice!"

Rey shrugged. "Learn to cuss in another language than English then, pendejo."

Ba-zing.

Punk came into the kitchen. "So what are we going to do now?"

Jeff bounced in, hopping like a rabbit for no good reason in his little converse shoes and all-black outfit.

Rey sighed. "I don't know. Check all the cameras and see if they're all like the first one. If I'm right, then they're all broken _and_ their batteries are drained. Then we'll clean them up."

"Why didn't you check them all when you were over there a second ago?" Punk asked him.

Rey gestured to all their food. "I was in the middle of bringing this all in."

Punk raised an eyebrow. "You did that all by yourself? In like what, just ten minutes? God, Rey…remind me to call you if I ever move anywhere."

Rey shrugged. "I have a lot of energy when I'm nervous."

They all went back over to the cameras at the foot of the stairs.

"You are not touching these again without gloves," Batista told the luchador.

Rey rolled his eyes and went and took out his wrestling gloves from his duffel bag and took his mask and the pamphlets out of his jacket pockets and set them securely in the bag.

He tucked his fingers inside the gloves and stretched his hands out as he walked back to stand beside Dave again. Dave sighed.

"You can't complain now," Rey told him.

Dave nodded.

No one else had gloves, or as much nervous energy as Rey, so that worked out to where he could do all the examinations of the equipment.

Punk thought to go get a trash bag to put all the debris in. In no time, Rey had sorted through all of the cameras. He had been right. All of the cameras were broken and all of the batteries were used up.

"What were you saying about all these not being fried earlier?" Rey asked Punk. "That doesn't make any sense to me. The batteries are drained. Isn't that the same thing as them frying?"

Punk shook his head. "No. If they fried, Rey, the batteries might still be full, but the cameras would be defective. Not necessarily broken, but defective. But all of these cameras… if they weren't broken into pieces, they'd be perfectly usable. It's just that all their charge is gone."

Rey nodded. "I see what you're saying. It is odd that all of the cameras lost their charge. What could do that?"

"Ghosts," Punk said.

Rey frowned at him. "Seriously?"

"Ever watched 'Ghost Hunters', Rey?" Punk asked.

Jeff raised his hand. "I have. I love that show. That black-haired guy Grant is cute. He kinda looks like you, Punk."

"Uh…thanks," Punks acknowledged awkwardly. "But yeah, Ghost Hunters is about this American organization called TAPS, The Atlantic Paranormal Society. They're legit. They carry around heavy duty equipment like infrared, heat vision, night vision, you name it."

"So they're serious, they don't just go around calling everything a ghost?" Dave asked.

Punk shook his head. "Oh, no, they hardly ever find good enough proof to declare that a building is haunted. Something like 80-90% of all their cases they debunk. They prove that the places aren't haunted."

"They're really that tough?" Rey asked skeptically.

"They filmed a chair scooting itself across the floor in the middle of the night with no one in the room and the only door shut and in direct view of the camera."

Rey blinked, surprised. "Did they say that that place was haunted?"

"They were reluctant to call it haunted because they never filmed any apparitions. Any ghosts. But they did have to admit that there was some paranormal activity."

"Wow. They do sound legitimate," Rey admitted. "I would have called that place with the chair haunted."

Punk shrugged. "Yeah. They're hardcore professional. But that's where I get a lot of my information on ghosts from, is the guys on that show."

Rey nodded. "Go on. What would they say about these cameras?"

"They have this theory that ghosts draw energy out of things in order to manifest. A lot of times they go in with their heavy duty equipment and it works fine, and it's fully charged and then suddenly the battery dies within a few minutes. When they review the tapes they usually get ghost activity like right after the batteries got sucked dry."

"So their stuff didn't fry, either? It just gets the energy sucked out of it?" Rey asked.

"Yep."

"Ghosts can suck out energy from objects?" Rey shuddered at the thought.

"Isn't there some other way that this could have happened?"

Punk shrugged. "There could be another explanation. But I have no idea what it could be. Do you have any ideas, Rey?"

Rey shook his head and frowned worriedly. "I don't like the sound of this. Do you think the ghosts are going to show soon?"

Punk shrugged. "Maybe they're waiting until nightfall."

Rey bit his lip and kind of went inside himself. Batista looked concerned and set his hand on his friend's shoulder, but Rey seemed too worried to notice.

Nothing happened all afternoon but Rey was still on pins and needles regardless. He didn't tell anyone that he thought he'd already seen a ghost even before they became supercharged with a week's worth of battery life.

He went to bed early.

They'd all picked bedrooms in the house and were rooming with their groups, which meant Rey was rooming with Batista.

There was a creepy old black iron bed frame in their room and Batista suggested that Rey sleep on it. He was trying to be a gentleman by offering Rey the bed. And besides, the frame was too small for Batista.

Rey shook his head vehemently at the thought. He cited that he thought that he'd probably fall through the springs, but Dave could tell the real reason why he didn't want the bed was because it gave him the heebie jeebies.

"Rey, I think all that stuff from the brochures Mr. McMahon handed us when we got on the bus is going to your head. I saw you reading yours with like this intensely worried look on your face."

Rey looked at his friend and shook his head. "Whatever, Dave, you can't tell me that you didn't think that was spooky earlier with the cameras. And the stairs. It was almost _on cue_, with the stairs, Dave."

Rey frowned and exhaled nervously. "I'm going to bed before I…" he rubbed his eyelids tiredly. "I don't know. Before I psych myself out."

"Did the brochures tell you anything?"

Rey shrugged. "I think Michelle gave me hers because she was afraid that Mr. McMahon would give the guys a different, more sugarcoated one than the girls got."

"Did we get an edited version?" Batista asked, interested now.

"No, it was the same exact one."

"Was there anything scary in there?" Batista pressed.

"No, it's just that…well, one thing."

"What?" Batista asked, coming closer to Rey.

The poor guy looked so tense, and it was only the first day.

_Damn it Michelle, you scared the hell out of him for no reason._ Batista thought angrily.

"Nobody knows what happened to the family here. Not a lot of facts are left about this place at all. They were an upper middle class family and the father was an executive at like a logging company, so that's how they could afford this big house. But his wife disappeared a couple of years before his daughter was found killed in here. And they never found the father after the girl's murder, Dave. Two people vanish and their child was murdered mysteriously and no one could ever find out what happened to them."

Batista watched Rey carefully.

"And that scares you because you're thinking of your own family. Of Angie and your kids. You think that could happen to you, too, don't you?"

Rey crossed himself nervously. "I'm an idiot for thinking that, but…yeah, the thought crossed my mind."

Batista hugged Rey. "Listen, buddy, that's not gonna happen to you or your family. They're nowhere near here, they're safe. And you're with me. Plus they have forensics, now, Rey. If –God forbid– anything ever happened to you it would be much easier to solve the crime now. There was probably DNA evidence all over that poor girl when they found her body; it's just that there was no way to use it."

Rey nodded. "Yeah."

He paused in a moment of deep thought.

"What if I get killed by the ghost, though? What DNA evidence will there be then?"

Batista started; shocked that Rey could think such dark thoughts.

Rey dropped his eyes, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't- I shouldn't think things like that. Forget I said anything," Rey apologized and went to the other side of the room to change.

"Rey…" Batista said too late for Rey to hear him.

Rey undressed down to his boxers, lost in his own head, and stepped into some pajama pants.

Batista sighed and did the same, although he thought he didn't look nearly as handsome as Rey did with his shirt off and those flattering gray pants hugging him in all the right places and then lying loosely against his legs. His tattoos always looked breathtaking against the landscape of his chest and back regardless of how many times Batista had already seen them. For God's sake, every guy in their profession went to work with their shirt off. Batista shouldn't have felt so turned on by seeing Rey's torso bare. It was hardly an event.

Rey folded his clothes and tucked them into a separate corner of his luggage than his clean clothes. Another reason why a lot of the Divas liked him was because he was so neat.

Batista didn't fold his clothes and just tossed them into his suitcase.

Rey saw this and rolled his eyes.

"How old are you now and other people still have to clean up after your mess?" he asked, putting his hand on his hip, probably resembling his own mother yelling at him when he was a teenager.

Batista sighed. "I _do_ clean up after myself. I just wait until the last day to re-fold everything."

Rey groaned. "You're impossible, Dave."

Batista shrugged. "Whatever, just don't look at my stuff if it bothers you that much."

Rey sighed. It was an incredibly long sigh that only stopped when he laid down in his sleeping bag, pulling a blanket up over it.

He rolled over onto his pillow. "Good _night_, Dave."

"Buenos noches, Rey," Batista returned and laid down about a foot away in his own sleeping bag.

Dave heard his friend praying quietly for a minute before crossing himself and exhaling, a little more relaxed.

Rey surprised himself by falling asleep not long after that.

Batista smiled and nodded off, glad that Rey was at peace.


	5. Really, Really Haunted

**I'm sorry to say that now that school's going on again I can't update every few days like I could in the summer. So FYI, now I'm going to try to update once a week. Sorry about the delay! Keep reviewing, I read all the reviews! I love you guys!**

Chapter 5: Really, Really Haunted 

Day Two at the Haunted House (3 AM)

Rey awoke in the middle of the night and blinked sleepily. It felt similar to when his children had been younger and woke him up because they'd had a nightmare.

They always went right to their Papi when he was home because he wasn't as stressed as Angie and could afford to lose a little more sleep. She would roll her eyes at him if he was sleep-deprived in the morning, but he couldn't help himself, it meant a lot to him to go and sit with his children, sing to them, and make them feel better. It made them feel safe, but Rey always felt he might have been even more comforted by this interaction. It was confirmation that his kids loved him and trusted him. They were admitting that they felt their father could protect them and to Rey, that was the greatest compliment he could ever receive.

All those pleasant thoughts associated with being woken up fell away when he saw a pair of pale feet skitter away from the doorframe.

Rey froze, and a shudder coursed through him from the tip of his spine down to his toes. He'd never seen anything so blatantly creepy in his life.

"Oh, God, I hope I didn't see what I think I just saw…" he told himself.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and knew that the more he sat there and thought about it, the more he realized that those two feet were about the same size as Aalyah's except they had kind of glowed.

_Maybe you were having a hallucination; your vision was kind of blurry at first_.

"I'm going crazy, I just know it," he whispered, and got up, digging around as quietly as possible to find a flashlight. Rey was being quiet lest he incur the wrath of Batista, who was literally the worst person on the face of the earth to deprive of any sleep whatsoever. Once he was out you had better just assume he was the same as a bear in hibernation; only wake him up if you want your head to get knocked off.

"We just _had_ to go to Massachusetts," Rey murmured to himself as he stepped out into the hall's cold, cold floorboards in his bare feet.

He felt reassured if he could at least hear the sound of his own voice. There was no logic to it at all; it's just that when he was silent, he heard nothing but the creaks and groans of the ancient house beneath, around, above him. And he felt like he was as good as stranded on the surface of the moon.

He clicked on the flashlight and raised it up to his waist level. He turned one way down the long hallway and saw nothing.

"Which way did those footsteps go again?" Rey asked himself.

He closed his eyes and tried to replay the moment in his mind.

"Ah…right. They went right, I think."

He turned right in his own doorway. He hoped he could find his way back, the house was so big.

God, that was a scary thought.

_Have you ever had thoughts this weird and sick before you came here? You sound like a paranoid schizophrenic or something; you just keep imagining worse and worse things happening to yourself. What the hell is wrong with you?_

Rey exhaled to calm himself and because he couldn't see any ghosts just yet, he started observing his surroundings. The house was beautiful in a decaying old-fashioned way.

The wallpaper was peeling at the top of some of the walls, and was an ornate, purpled, blue, gray, and forest green pattern. In its day, it must have been gorgeous. The wall lamps didn't function any more, because the house's electricity was cut out when its town was destroyed during the bulldozing (or horse-and-carriaging to death) so long ago.

They were curved in an eerily perfect way, full and round glass at the base and then flowing up into edges like wine glasses.

Rey sighed.

"This isn't so bad, you know, it's a nice place. It's too bad nobody's willing to come out and preserve it because half the people who come here get pushed down the stairs."

After walking quite a distance Rey came across a painting on the wall. He stopped and looked at it.

It was a family portrait.

Rey gasped.

There was the mother, looking so kind and genteel. The husband was plain-looking but had a wild look in his eyes. In between them was an angelic little girl with a soft smile and a white dress with blonde hair. She looked like a little lily.

Entranced, Rey reached up to touch the picture of the girl, but he pulled his fingertip away just in time.

_They don't let you touch old stuff at museums, either, estupido, there's a reason for that. You'll hurt it. _

He fingered his lips thoughtfully. He felt something unusual and looked down to see the band aid. He'd forgotten it was there.

He frowned. "I should go back, if I…if I get lost or even if I get what I want and find a ghost, I…"

He shook his head.

"This isn't worth risking my life for."

He closed his hand. Dave would hate him if he ended up dead while wandering around the house without telling him he was gone.

He looked mournfully back up at the painting of the family.

"Sylvia," Rey whispered, looking at the image of the girl.

"'Little Sylvia was found murdered in her bedroom here,'" he said, quoting the pamphlet.

He dropped his eyes and turned around. "I'm going back to bed."

His flashlight went out just then. He stopped.

_Ghosts can drain energy from batteries in order to…manifest. _

Rey swallowed and turned around hesitantly, shaking a little.

He froze. A few yards beyond the portrait on the wall was a small child, a little girl about ten years old and bare-footed in an old-timey dress and long, curly, blonde hair and shockingly clear blue eyes. She was so pretty for someone so young. But she was too pale to be alive. And she glowed slightly.

Rey's mouth fell slightly open in shock.

He couldn't move; he was rooted to the spot in fear, fascination, awe and curiosity. It was a potent mixture of emotions. His heartbeat nearly burst out of his chest.

The girl stared at him blankly. Then she slowly took a step forward.

When he didn't run she kept coming.

He didn't sense any harmful intentions from her and he wouldn't know how to escape a ghost if he did, so he just stood there.

She halted within a foot or so of him.

He didn't know why, but he knelt down and watched her. He didn't want to scare her off. Something about this girl…he felt like he was supposed to talk to her.

She gazed up at him, holding her arm with her hand a little shyly.

His voice came back to him.

"Were you the one who woke me?"

She nodded almost apologetically.

"Is this your home?"

She nodded.

"Oh. I…my friends and I will be staying here for a week. Is that all right?"

The girl nodded permissively.

"Can you speak?" Rey asked, perplexed at why she was answering all of his questions, but not verbally.

The girl shook her head sadly.

"Why…why can't you?"

The girl opened her mouth.

Rey started, horrified at what he saw.

The little girl was missing her tongue. No wonder she couldn't speak.

Rey was about to back away when he saw the girl close her mouth quickly and look down at the ground and then up at him with big, sad eyes.

Rey recognized that expression from his daughter Aalyah. When she felt guilty if he'd scolded her for drawing on the walls of the house or some other misbehavior, she'd lower her chin regretfully and move her eyes up towards him.

Rey exhaled and smiled reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, baby girl; you just startled me for a second. It's fine."

She blinked at him.

"It's okay," he said carefully, reaching out to pat her head. She let him.

He could feel her hair; it was exceedingly soft. He decided not to question how the hell he could feel a ghost. He took his hand away.

He felt sorry for her.

"Does it...does it hurt?"

The girl shook her head.

"I'm glad," Rey said, smiling sadly.

The girl just nodded.

She looked behind her down the hallway, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I'm Rey," Rey said, putting a hand on his chest demonstratively. As though there was anybody else there to confuse him with.

She looked back at him blankly.

"My name is Rey," he repeated.

She opened her mouth as if to try and repeat his name and closed it again quickly. Maybe she forgot at times that she couldn't speak.

"Is your name…are you Sylvia?" he asked carefully.

She looked up at him, straight into his eyes.

He blinked innocently.

She nodded at him.

"Oh," was all he could say at first.

He swallowed. "Ah, um…hello."

She mouthed the word "hello" in return and curtsied.

Rey smiled. "Nice to meet you, too," he said, bowing slightly in return.

She giggled.

He looked funny because he was already on his knees and there he was, bowing to mimic some semblance of an old fashioned introduction.

"Why did you wake me?" he asked her gently.

Sylvia looked at him with a deep melancholy that Rey hadn't encountered before.

"Did you just want to meet me?" he guessed.

She smiled suddenly, excited that he guessed correctly. It was difficult for the poor thing to communicate ideas any more complex than answers to yes or no questions when she couldn't speak. So he'd have to do a lot of the talking.

"Oh. All right. Um…why did you have to wake me up in the middle of the night, sweetheart?"

Sylvia stuck out her lower lip.

"No, no, I'm not mad at you, baby girl, I'm just curious."

She stopped pouting and looked up at him questioningly.

"Why at night? Why didn't you meet me during the day?"

She thought for a minute and held up one finger.

"Oh, I see. You wanted to talk to someone alone."

Sylvia shook her head and pointed to him.

"Just me?"

She nodded frantically.

"You only wanted to talk to me when you could be sure I was by myself?"

She smiled. He'd gotten it right.

"Why me?"

Her blonde eyebrows came together sternly.

He suppressed a laugh at her trying so hard to look serious.

Was that a compliment to be sought out by a ghost?

"Uh, well…why not my friends?"

She shook her head hard to signal that she disliked them.

Rey chuckled. "Well, they are kind of big and scary, aren't they?"

Sylvia nodded, glad he understood.

He smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, my friends may look scary to you, but they're nice."

She tilted her head to the side to show that she didn't know if she believed him.

"They're nice people, Sylvia. We're not here to hurt you. We're good."

She believed him.

Rey yawned. He was tired after traveling and all this being haunted was taking a lot out of him. Sylvia watched him and saw how sleepy he was.

She came very close to him.

When he was done rubbing his eyes to keep himself awake he looked at her.

She reached up and touched his cheek, holding his eyes in hers. Rey could feel her fingers and they felt so cold that they might actually have been burning him. They felt like dry ice and they stung with a dull pain. But he didn't pull away because he could tell she needed him.

She gazed urgently into his eyes, with sorrow and helplessness.

_Don't leave me._

"Sylvia, I'm not going to leave you. You need my help, don't you?"

She nodded sadly and bit her lip.

_Please don't go._

That broke his heart. He touched the fingers that she was holding against his cheek.

"Sylvia, I need to get some sleep. I have to leave you for tonight, but I will be here all week. You can come see me in the morning and any time during the day."

She frowned at that. She didn't want to meet anyone else but Rey, and during the day they would all be awake and it would be difficult to talk to him alone.

He saw her reluctance.

"If we meet at night could you wake me a little earlier? How about midnight tomorrow?"

She nodded, liking the idea of meeting at night.

He sighed. "Okay, you have to let me go now. I need to go back to sleep, all right?"

She started to cry with little gasps and lowered her hand from his face. A small burn faded away from his skin where her hand had been.

His brow came together. "Sylvia, look at me."

She sniffed and looked up at Rey.

"I promise you I will meet you here, just beyond this portrait, at midnight tomorrow night. Is that good for you?"

She nodded. But she still looked unsure. Maybe she had tried to get help from a living person before but they had run away on her.

Rey not only wouldn't do that, he literally couldn't. There was no way to leave this house until the week was up.

Rey sighed. "Sylvia, I promise you." He dragged the tip of his index finger over his chest, making an x.

She stared at him in awe.

"I crossed my heart. That means I have to keep my promise to you. Right?"

Sylvia smiled gratefully and crossed her heart, too.

He chuckled. "You promise to meet me here? Thank you."

Sylvia wiped her eyes.

"I will see you tomorrow night, baby girl. Goodbye for now." Rey smiled tiredly and stood up, picking up his useless flashlight.

The little ghost girl waved at him as he turned to go. He walked a little ways away and then turned around again when he was halfway down the hall.

The ghost had vanished as quickly as she'd come.

He frowned and wondered if he had imagined or dreamt the whole encounter.

He found his way back to his bedroom and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


	6. Seeing Dead People

Chapter 6: Seeing Dead People

Day Two at the Haunted House

"Rey! Rey, wake up, man!"

Batista was shaking Rey's shoulder.

Rey smacked his arm away and mumbled slurred obscenities at him.

"Dave, just let me sleep a little longer…" he groaned and turned away.

Batista frowned and snatched up Rey's blanket.

Rey moaned and mashed his pillow over his face, covering his eyes.

"Go_ away_, Dave…"

"Rey, you have to get up! Chris Jericho is gone!"

"Wha…?" Rey asked sleepily and pulled the pillow off his face. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"He's gone, Rey, we can't find him!"

"Ugh…" Rey said, smearing his palm over his face and collapsing back against his pillow. "Do you think I sent him to Tijuana?! What are you waking _me_ up for?"

Batista blinked at him in surprise.

Rey groaned. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. My God, Dave, grow a sense of humor…"

He yawned and stretched.

Dave smiled nervously. "Uh, yeah…sorry, Rey."

"What time is it, anyway?" Rey asked, standing up and walking over to his suitcase to grab some clothes.

"I let you sleep til ten."

Rey yawned. "That was a good decision on your part, then, because I am _still_ exhausted."

Batista frowned. "Rey, where are you going?"

His friend had grabbed his watch and some clothes and was headed out the door.

"To take a really, really, quick shower. Why?"

"We were all waiting for you to wake up so that we could start searching the house for him."

Rey stared at him. "Wait, you mean that he's seriously missing?"

Batista stared back at him. "_Yes_, he's seriously missing! Did you think I was joking?!"

"_No_! I thought you meant like, 'oh, he's on the roof and we can't get him to come down, he's gone!' or 'Oh, we're really lazy and we haven't bothered to even look for him in his own bedroom, he's gone!'"

"What are you implying?!" Batista demanded, offended.

"I'm saying every time you guys have a problem, you make me do all the hard work for you. I warned all of you that this place was dangerous. You didn't listen to me. I will be _furious_ at you if you haven't searched the house at all before waking me up. Because right now, Dave, you're scaring the hell out of me and I'm assuming that Jericho was kidnapped by that ghost."

Rey stared him down.

Batista blinked sheepishly and twiddled his thumbs. "Rey, you should go take a really, really long shower and then eat a really, really, big breakfast."

Rey frowned. "Why?"

Batista grimaced. "Because we haven't searched the house at all yet."

Rey gave a lengthy sigh and walked out of the room. "Hasta luego."

An hour and a half later, Rey was showered, dressed, cologne-d (Rey_ loved_ cologne. He had countless different scents at his house and he'd brought one of his favorites with him) and was just finishing a bowl of yogurt, blueberries and granola when all of the guys came charging into the room.

Jeff Hardy vaulted over the back of a chair and managed to land onto the seat.

Rey sat, blinking, and then swallowed. John Cena leapt through the air and belly-flopped onto the other couch, causing it to slide forward about a foot.

Batista came over and sat down on the couch next to Rey.

"Did you find him?" Rey asked.

"No."

Rey flushed and covered his mouth. "And he wasn't outside?"

Rey looked very, very pale.

Punk eyed him and walked over, sitting in a sofa chair close to the luchador.

"I think Rey knows where Jericho is."

Rey started and looked up at Punk. "I-no, why would I know that?"

Batista looked daggers at him. "You better have something to back that up with, Punk."

C.M. Punk crossed his legs and set his fingertips together. "I heard footsteps last night at three different times. Three people were out of their rooms. And from the look on your face Rey, one of those people was you."

Rey swallowed. Everyone stared at him.

"I-"

But before he could explain, Shawn Michaels saw an opportunity to wreak havoc and he seized it.

"I bet Rey was out there meeting Cena. Dave, don't you think so?"

Batista's eyes widened. If Rey had snuck out of their room at night, maybe it was to meet another guy. And maybe it was a romantic rendezvous, he didn't know that.

Rey frowned, confused. "Is everyone speaking in code, why would I- what would I be doing at three in the morning with John? I-"

Rey's brain caught up with everyone else's dirty, dirty minds and his eyes flashed.

"What in God's name is wrong with you people?! I wasn't anywhere near his room last night!"

Punk shrugged calmly. "Whatever. I heard three people. And one of them was obviously Jericho because no one else was snatched from their rooms last night; ergo the missing one must have been one of the three to leave his room."

Rey frowned. "What times did you hear footsteps, Punk?"

Punk took out a notepad. "I wrote the times down. Also, I have a weight estimate for all three. The footsteps gave me the impression that people were a certain size. As a wrestler, I just couldn't help but notice that."

All the guys shrugged. Yeah, that type of stuff was on their mind usually. Weight classification…the price of protein shakes…etc.

Punk continued. "At two AM there were heavyweights' footsteps. Alone. And there was only the steps going somewhere, I didn't hear any of them coming back to the room."

"That one was obviously Jericho," Batista said.

"Yeah," Punk nodded. "I think that's when the ghost grabbed him."

He looked back at the notepad. "At three AM there was another set of footsteps. A cruiserweight's. And I heard returning footsteps about half an hour later."

Batista looked at Rey, who didn't say anything, just listened.

"You can do a lot in half an hour with that third person, Dave…" HBK chimed in.

Batista flinched and glared at Cena before looking back at his friend.

"Rey, tell me you didn't leave our room last night, come on," he begged.

"I did leave our room around three in the morning," Rey admitted weakly. "I'm sorry, Dave, I didn't want to wake you."

"Why not?" Batista demanded.

Triple H sighed. "Jesus Rey, it sounds to me like you woke up and found Jericho passed out and had an accomplice in kidnapping him or worse."

"Or it sounds like you heard Jericho disappear and couldn't sleep because it made you want a…_friend_, and you snuck out at three and met someone and _did things_ for half an hour with them," Shawn said, loving this.

"No! I didn't do anything, I-" Rey protested, but Punk cut him off.

"Wait a second! Before anybody jumps to any conclusions about Rey, listen to my notes about the third person."

"What weight were they? It was a heavyweight, wasn't it? It was one of us!" Batista pursued.

"Dave I didn't-" Rey pleaded.

"The third set of footsteps was at 3:20 AM and they mixed with Rey's. And that person was a featherweight. And there were no returning footsteps."

Batista was about to explode at Rey when he realized that no one here weighed less than the luchador. And Rey was a cruiserweight.

"A featherweight?! And they didn't have returning footsteps?!" Batista asked.

"Oh my God, Rey, what did you do?" Shawn asked teasingly.

"WILL EVERYBODY JUST CALM DOWN?!" Rey screamed.

Everyone shut up.

Rey huffed. "Thank you. I...let me explain. I wasn't meeting anyone last night. I was woken up at three in the morning and I didn't want to wake you, Dave, because you get ticked off as fuck at night when people wake you, you know you do."

Everyone nodded.

"That's true, Dave," Randy Orton confirmed.

Batista frowned. "Rey, what the hell woke you?"

"I'm getting to that. I woke up at three and I- you're all going to think I'm crazy or that I'm making this up, but it's the truth. I saw like, small, glowing feet run away from the door."

"_What_ now?" Batista demanded.  
"Dave, just calm down, let me finish," Rey pleaded. "I…I got my flashlight and walked down the hall to the right of our doorway. I guess I was walking up until around 3:20AM and then my flashlight went out. The batteries were suddenly dead. And I turned and I saw…a-a little girl."

"Rey, are you feeling all right?" Batista asked, concerned now.

"Yes, I'm fine! But I'm _telling_ you, I saw the ghost of a little girl."

"Rey, if you're lying then you can tell me that, I just want to know who you were with," Batista begged.

"_I wasn't with a guy, you idiot_!" Rey fumed. "You heard Punk! At 3:20 I saw the ghost. At 3:20 he heard a featherweight's footsteps. It was a little girl, Dave! I saw her, and she walked over to me after I saw her. I told you, a little girl was found murdered in this house. And I'm telling you now; I met her ghost last night."

"At 3:20 AM?"

"Yes," Rey said, exasperated.

"Where did she go?"

"She vanished around…three thirty, I guess. And then I went back to the room and went back to sleep," Rey finished.

Everyone was quiet.

No one knew quite what to believe. Either everything had been paranormal last night or Rey had gone crazy in like eight different ways.

Triple H spoke up. "I don't think Rey and a featherweight could have done anything to Jericho's body. And you never saw him last night, did you Rey?"

"No," Rey answered unblinkingly, looking into Triple H's eyes. The larger wrestler was giving him a lie detector test and he knew it. Triple H could smell bullshit a mile away, and Rey was notorious for being a horrible liar.

"Okay, so you didn't see Jericho. Did you hear him vanish or walk around at two?"

"No," Rey responded honestly. "I was asleep then."

"He's telling the truth," Triple H said after a minute.

Rey exhaled in relief.

"Sorry I thought you were a kidnapper, Rey," Triple H apologized.

"It's okay," Rey assured him.

"What about my theory that Rey was being a naughty boy…?" Shawn reminded them.

Rey glared at him ferociously. "I did not. See. Any of the guys last night. Period. _Drop it_ before I wring your neck."

"I don't think he's lying about that, either," Triple H offered.

Batista looked at Rey desperately. "Do you have any proof, Rey? Any proof that it was a ghost?"

Rey thought hard for a second. He could say that they could all meet Sylvia for themselves tonight, but he'd promised her he'd come alone. He couldn't show her to them without scaring off the poor girl.

"I…I don't know. She's a ghost, Dave, what proof could I have?"

Batista looked at Rey mournfully, assuming that Rey was lying and had somehow convinced Punk to say that it was a lightweight. He thought Rey had snuck out and met up with one of the heavyweights and maybe, just maybe, it would have been Cena and neatly prove HBK's theory that Rey liked Cena more than Batista.

Everyone frowned.

"Your flashlight," Jeff said suddenly. "Rey, did you change your batteries to your flashlight?"

Leave it to Jeff Hardy to hear a whole story and fixate on an obscure detail.

Rey brightened. "No! No, I didn't have time to change the batteries! I went back to sleep, I was so tired! I was going to change them tonight!"

Batista blinked and dashed upstairs without another word. He came back moments later carrying Rey's flashlight.

"I put the batteries in here for you myself, remember?" Dave asked Rey seriously.

"I know you did, Dave," Rey said.

"And so you know that I know for a _fact_ that these batteries are supposed to be fully charged, right?" Batista pressed.

"Yes," Rey said.

Dave unscrewed the bottom of the flashlight and checked to see that the two batteries were inside. He put them back in. Now was the moment of truth.

He clicked the on switch and nothing happened. Batista tried it several times, but the batteries were dead. He stared at it in awe.

Rey exhaled in relief. "You saved me, Jeff, thanks."

Jeff nodded spacily. "No problem. I'm gonna go get you some new batteries," he bunny-hopped away to do just that.

Punk shook his head in astonishment. "So we had someone get spirited away by ghosts and then you met a little girl ghost, Rey? Wow."

Triple H shrugged. "I told you I thought he was telling the truth. God knows Rey can't lie worth a damn."

Shawn Michaels was boiling mad, now. His plot to create chaos had just nearly come to fruition and Rey had saved himself. Damn it.

Batista set the flashlight down and sat on the couch. He looked at Rey and smiled, relieved.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, buddy."

Rey shrugged, "I would have woken you if I didn't think you'd have bitten my head off, Dave. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I left, though."

Batista reached his arm around Rey and gave him a squeeze. Rey patted his back.

Shawn wanted to gag.

Triple H smacked him on the back. "Maybe you'll cause World War Three next time, man," he said under his breath.

Shawn shook his head and clutched at his jeans furiously. He grinned insanely.

"Oh, I'll make shit _explode_ soon. Before this week is up, little Rey is not gonna know what to do with the type of drama I'm gonna cook up for him," he hissed.

No one heard them.

"Do you think that the ghost girl took Jericho, Rey?" Punk asked, bringing the subject back to the ghosts.

Rey frowned. "I'm not sure. I only met her last night, but she seems more sad than dangerous to me. She doesn't seem mean or evil. I don't know why she'd want to kidnap any of us. I told her we were all friendly and that we didn't mean her any harm."

Punk thought for a minute. "What was her name, Rey?"

"Sylvia."

Punk started. "So it really is the ghost of the girl who was murdered here? How could you tell? Did she speak to you?"

"She's mute. She can't talk. I asked her if Sylvia was her name and she nodded," Rey said.

"Why didn't she speak? Was she afraid of you?" Batista asked, doubtful that anyone could be too intimidated by Rey.

"She doesn't have a tongue," Rey explained quietly.

Batista started and Punk's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Like, she was born without one?"

Rey shook his head. "No, you need your tongue to survive; you have to have it in order to swallow correctly. It must have been cut out of her mouth, there's no way you could live to become a ten-year-old without a tongue."

He knew things like that for sure because he had children.

"Maybe it was cut out by the killer," Punk suggested.

"Probably," Rey agreed.

Batista shuddered. "That's horrible. How did that not scare you off, Rey?"

Rey bit his lip. "She's a sweet little thing. She cried when I was about to leave. I was so tired; I told her I had to go back to bed. But she was upset. I just felt like I was the only one she could go to for help. So I promised her I would meet her again tonight."

Punk looked excited by this. "That's great! You have a way to contact her?"

"Well, I have a place I'm supposed to meet her at midnight."

"Can we come?" Punk asked.

Rey shook his head apologetically. "You're gonna laugh when I tell you this, but she's afraid of you guys. She wants me to talk to her alone."

Triple H did laugh at that.

Batista frowned. "She's scared of me? She wasn't scared by you even though you're covered in all those tattoos?"

Rey blushed and shrugged. "I don't think they're scary to my kids. Aalyah actually told me once that she thought they were 'pretty'."

Triple H chuckled, "Or, maybe Aalyah's more of a badass than you give her credit for, Rey. Maybe she'll grow up to get awesome tattoos, too."

Rey smiled. "Maybe."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Screw the tattoos. Just look at that face. How could any little girl not love Rey's big puppy dog eyes?"

Rey blushed even more. "I'm _not_ cute, stop calling me that."

They all sighed.

"So, I guess since we searched the whole house for him, there's nothing we can do for Jericho. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow when Rey's asked Sylvia if she knows where he is," Punk concluded.

"I don't want him to go see her alone," Batista intoned. "If she's responsible for Jericho's disappearance, I don't want Rey to go missing too."

"She already had one chance to grab me. Why didn't she take it then?" Rey reminded him.

Batista held his tongue. Rey got him there.

"She won't hurt me, Dave. I have a feeling that she needs me for something. She wants my help."

Punk sighed. "Give us an update tomorrow, okay?"

Rey nodded. "Of course. If she leads me to Jericho, I'll tell you."

They were all quiet for a minute.

"So you guys checked all the bedrooms and the bathrooms?" Rey asked, going over where Jericho could be.

"Yep," Triple H confirmed.  
"And the yard? Because there's no trees for a while; we'd see him if he wandered off in any direction. The forest doesn't start for yards and yards."

"No sign of him outside," Batista assured him.

"And the attic and the basement?" Rey asked.

Punk nodded. "Yeah, we looked in the attic."

Rey frowned. "But what about the basement?"

They all blinked at him. "There isn't a basement."

Rey shook his head. "No, the brochure says they had a cellar."

Batista thought for a second. "We couldn't find one, Rey. We couldn't find a door leading down any further than this floor right here. And we're at ground level right now."

That worried Rey. "There has to be a door to the basement. That's gotta be where Jericho is. We need to find it."

Batista swallowed. "Don't worry about that right now, Rey."

Rey shook his head. "No, I can't help it, Dave."

"Rey, it's not going to do you any good to be so damn stubborn and work yourself up into a nervous wreck over this situation," Batista warned.

"It's not going to do _you_ any good to keep lecturing me about how I think, because I'll think what I want to, Dave, so deal with it," Rey shot back.

Awkward silence.

"I'm bored," Jeff said as he put new batteries in Rey's flashlight. "I want a popsicle."

C.M. Punk sighed like an exhausted babysitter.

"I brought you your damn popsicles, just hold your horses while I go get the box," he said and walked into the kitchen.

"I want to go outside…" Jeff whined. Everybody filtered outside.

Rey, Dave, Triple H and Shawn stayed on the couches for a minute.

Triple H sighed. "Yeah, well, I'd like to see a fire in this fireplace tonight, but we don't have any firewood. We can't always get what we want. Right, Shawn?"

Shawn glared at him and mouthed the words, "Fuck you."

The two of them went out.

Rey remained with Batista. Rey was lost in thought and lifted his fingers to his mouth to start chewing his nails when Batista gently took hold of his wrist.

Rey looked at him.

"Don't do that."

"Bite my nails?" Rey asked sarcastically.

"You know what I mean. Don't start putting the world on your shoulders again," Batista said softly.

Rey looked at Batista holding his wrist and carefully pulled it away.

"I don't have the same feelings for you that you have for me, Dave," Rey reminded him quietly.

Batista swallowed painfully.

There was nothing more to say. He stood up and walked out.

Rey wanted to kick himself. That had sounded much crueler than he thought it would.

He stood up and went out onto the porch.

Punk offered him a popsicle. "You want something frozen with no nutritional value whatsoever?"

Rey shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good."

He took a grape flavored one and sat down away from the steps so that he could swing his legs over the edge.

"Is junk food your only vice, Punk?" Rey asked him as they unwrapped their treats.

Punk chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Cheers," Rey said with a sigh and knocked popsicles with C.M. Punk before they started eating them.

"Dave's right, you know, you need to stop worrying so much," Punk told Rey as they sat on the porch.

Rey rolled his shoulders, trying to force himself to un-tense, but he couldn't do it.

He saw Jeff climbing the single tree that was close to the house yet again. Everyone else was wandering around like kids on a playground.

"I don't think that was a good idea on your part to give him sugar," Rey said as Jeff plummeted out of the tree only to scramble up it again like some type of human squirrel.

They both winced.

"Yeah, well, by the time that occurred to me, Jeff had already wolfed down two popsicles and taken off," Punk confessed.

Cena and Batista looked like they were about to get into something again.

"Guys!" Rey called, breaking it up. "Go find something productive to do!"

Triple H jogged over to Rey. "How about they chop some firewood?" he hissed.

"Are you a pyromaniac? Because you're like obsessed with starting a fire now," Punk said.

Triple H shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. It's cold here at night, and there's nothing to do but just sit around and talk."

Rey chewed on the last bit of his popsicle thoughtfully. He waved over Cena and Batista, because they were still staring at him, awaiting instructions.

Rey swallowed the last piece of his popsicle and sucked on the stick to get to the flavor soaked in there.

"The forest starts off to the right over there. Go grab some sticks and dry, fallen pieces of wood and start breaking it up and putting it in piles and things. And bring it into the living room without making a mess. You should probably scrape most of the bark off of it," Rey instructed.

Cena and Batista just stared hungrily and kind of awkwardly at Rey, who suddenly realized he was sucking on a phallic symbol.

Rey groaned and took it out of his mouth and snapped it cleanly in half.

The two men started in terror and got the message. They dashed off to get the firewood.

Rey exhaled through his nose. He'd gotten all of the flavor out of the popsicle stick, at least.

"Why didn't you tell me it looked like I was doing something sexual?" he demanded, looking at Triple H.

Punk wasn't interested in Rey physically as much as he was mentally, so he might not have considered what the popsicle looked like, either.  
Triple H shrugged. "We always assume that you know when you're being flirtatious, but I guess not. Sorry, man."

Rey shook his head. "I can't do anything around you guys, can I?"

Punk patted his back.

**

Cena trucked a load of cleaned sticks into the house and clunked back out onto the steps and sat down. He was panting and his t-shirt was soaked with sweat. He waved air at himself and gasped, "I'm done, I got the damn kindling, but fuck, this place gets hot during the heat of the day, y'know?"

Rey sighed. "Sit still, I'll get you some water. Anybody else want one?"

Triple H and Punk raised their hands. Rey chuckled. "Be right back."

Of course Batista just so happened to look up from his furious attempts to impress his best friend and crush when Rey was handing Cena a water bottle and smiling at him.

Batista's cheeks burned with envy and he snapped a log in two with his bare hands.

Shawn was sitting off near Jeff and the tree, watching the developing resentment in Batista. He looked between the Animal and Rey, who was blissfully unaware of the severity of the rivalry developing between Cena and his friend. Shawn sat and relished the plot thickening all around him.

Jeff caused karma to strike by accidentally falling off the tree again and landing on Shawn.

"Fuck!" he shouted. Jeff got a soft landing out of the situation, at least. That's what you get for making up evil schemes.

Rey didn't hear or see any of this happening.

The luchador sat back down in his spot and drank some water. He turned to watch Dave.

"He is one gay motherfucker," Cena pronounced, shaking his head at Batista as he ripped wood apart with his shirt off, trying to impress a certain someone, no doubt.

"You are too," Rey reminded Cena.

John looked at him indignantly. "I am not! You're the only dude I like! And I get more pussy than you so stop judgin' me!"

"If you're talking about the _quantity _of _women_ you sleep with, then yeah, you win, because I'm _married_," Rey said dryly.

Cena shrugged.

"Well, what about the quantity of sex?" Shawn said teasingly, leaning in over Rey's shoulder. He'd crept over onto the porch because his back hurt after being landed on.

"Man, you need to stop being such a damn creeper and hanging all over Rey-Rey like that. It's giving him the damn willies and you know it," Cena informed HBK.

Shawn rolled his eyes and sat back. "Whatever."

"The answer to your question is that he probably still has more sex than me and Angie, 'cause once again, I'm _married_, which means we see each other all the time, so it's not like we have to impress the other with crazy sexcapades every time we meet. Plus, we have to make sure the kids are somewhere else," Rey told Shawn.

"Okay, so he beats you on quantity. What about quality?" Shawn asked slyly.

Rey grinned and took a sip of his water, kicking his feet happily back and forth over the edge of the porch.

He winked.

Rey managed to be so sexy just then that he even made Shawn Michaels blush.

They all laughed.

"So you're a real Don Juan, hunh?"

Rey chuckled. "I don't know if I'd go that far," he admitted. "But we're happy together."

**

Day Two at the Haunted House (Day Three at Midnight)

They all sat and talked around the fire when it got dark outside.

"This is nice," Rey noted, beaming. "You did a great job with the firewood, Dave, we have enough for the whole week now."

Batista smiled proudly. "Thanks, Rey."

"You too, Cena," Rey said, complimenting John Cena's efforts, even though they were smaller. He'd brought in all the kindling, which was not very heavy. Batista had brought in like twenty-five logs. Big, crazy-thick logs.

"You can't make a fire without kindling," Triple H added.

Rey nodded. "Yeah."

Cena smiled his arrogant grin.

Batista looked crestfallen that Cena received attention too.

When Rey looked back at his friend he looked sullen again.

Rey stopped smiling. He just couldn't win.

Rey swallowed. He looked at his watch. It was eleven thirty.

"Um…I'm going to go up and get ready for bed," he said quietly and wished everyone a good night's sleep.

C.M. Punk lied in his bed awake that night, waiting for midnight to come around. That's what most of the guys were doing in their respective bedrooms.

Rey himself was putting on socks in preparation for going out of his room at midnight.

"The floor was cold last night," Rey explained conversationally. He was trying to coax Batista into speaking to him again. It wasn't working, so far.

"Dave, I…I would let you come if Sylvia hadn't said that she was scared of you guys."

Batista glared at him. "You seriously think your tattoos aren't scaring that little girl?"

Rey blinked helplessly at him. "What do you want me to do, put a t-shirt on?"

Batista snorted. "That wouldn't help; you have tattoos on your arms, too, Rey. Or did you forget those?"

Rey recognized when he couldn't win at compromising and went on the defensive.

"Screw it. I'm not playing dress-up with you just so you can pout at me for a few more hours."

Batista didn't say anything.

Rey picked up his flashlight and went to the door. "Later, Dave," he muttered and went out without a second glance.


	7. Meet Me at Midnight

Chapter 7: Meet Me at Midnight

Day Three at the Haunted House (Midnight)

He stopped just beyond the painting and the batteries went dead again.

Sylvia materialized. Rey was holding two more fresh batteries.

"I need these to make this thing work, okay?" Rey explained, pointing to his flashlight.

"So don't drain these, okay?" he requested, pointing to the fresh batteries.

Sylvia nodded.

Rey set the useless cells on the ground to pick up later. He replaced them and turned the flashlight back on.

Sylvia stared at it in awe.

"It's called a flashlight," Rey told her. "Nice, isn't it?"

Sylvia grinned and nodded.

Rey smiled. He was starting to think that he and this ghost girl were getting along better than he was with a lot of his living friends lately.

"Sylvia, I have something I need to ask you."

The little girl stared up at him.

"I have a friend that got lost last night. He's um…blonde and a little taller and heavier than me. His name is Chris Jericho. Do you know what happened to him?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Did you…did you take him?" Rey asked quietly.

The girl stared at him and shook her head.

Rey smiled, relieved. "I didn't think so. Do you know where he is?"

Sylvia paused for a second and then shook her head. There was something odd about the motion that time. Like she had hesitated to answer him. It was almost as though she did know where Jericho was but was afraid to say.

"Okay. Thanks anyway, Sylvia."

The ghost motioned for Rey to follow her.

"You want to show me something?"

Sylvia smiled at him and waved him forward again.

Rey considered not following for a minute. Something chilled him in his bones. He had a bad feeling about tonight.

But he saw Sylvia's bright blue eyes, shining with desperation. He couldn't believe that a little girl would want to harm him.

So he followed her.

"Okay, lead the way, baby girl; you know this house better than I do."

Sylvia smiled at him and took him down the hall and turned a corner. She led him up a flight of stairs, leaping them two at a time. Rey couldn't do that any more, he had to step carefully with his knees after having several operations on his left one.

He laughed at her energy. It was hard to believe she was dead, she seemed so spritely.

She led him down another hall and to the attic stairs.

"You might have to lead me back to my room, Sylvia, this is getting hard for me to find my way back from here," Rey told her honestly.

In the dark, everything looked the same. They'd only turned a few corners, but there were endless corners and hallways in the house. It was becoming impossible to differentiate between them.

Sylvia nodded.

Rey stood still once they were up in the attic. Sylvia skipped off somewhere. He looked all around him, shining the flashlight in his line of sight. Everything was coated in a layer of dust so thick that it looked like frost. There was an old crib, probably Sylvia's; cast-iron. A wooden rocking horse that looked ornate by today's standards. Tons of old everyday objects, many of them pertaining to Sylvia's infancy. Rey felt like he was in a museum storage facility. Everything was just so perfect that he wished it was in a museum. He saw a pile of ancient herbs tied together and lying atop a wooden crate and he knew that if he pricked them with his finger they would disintegrate into dust. Just the thought of it astounded him. He didn't touch a thing and treaded with great care.

Sylvia stared at his body while he wasn't looking. He was muscular and his color was darker than hers, and his eyes were dark brown and very deep. He had a kind face. She wondered why she couldn't stop staring at his naked chest. She shook herself out of the trance, dismissing it as senseless. She was forever ten years old. She would never blossom to the age where she could understand that she thought Rey was handsome.

"It's beautiful up here," Rey whispered, either to himself or the ghost he didn't know. Maybe to both of them.

She pulled on his pant leg.

He turned and looked down at her.

"What is it?"

She pointed at something on the floor a little ways away. Rey went over to it and knelt down. It was rectangular and thin. A photo? It couldn't be, could it? He picked it up.

"This is from a digital camera, and it's in color!" Rey exclaimed. He brushed the thin layer of dust off of it and saw that it was a group image of Michelle McCool and all the other Divas together, smiling and giving peace signs and generally taking a break from their typical on screen cat-fights.

Rey smiled. Most of them were very nice girls in real life.

He flipped it over and saw Michelle's handwriting of the date and event on the back.

"This is Michelle's," Rey said to Sylvia, who was staring up at him.

"Did she give this to you?"

Sylvia nodded.

Rey looked down at the photo. "Why did you bring it into the attic?"

Sylvia bent down and wrote into the dust.

_I cannot hold things._

Rey read her message. "But you're pretty solid right now. How is it that you can't hold anything at certain times and at other times you can?"

She stared at him, not sure what he was asking.

"Never mind baby girl, that was a hard question, sorry. It's okay that you don't know the answer."

He didn't know why he'd thought a little girl would know the laws of being a ghost; Sylvia may not have even known that she was one.

He was about to set the picture back where he'd found it but Sylvia touched his hand. He looked at her and she shook her head and gestured towards him.

"You want me to keep this?"

Sylvia nodded.

He smiled. "Thank you."

He stood up and tucked the picture into the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. He didn't have any pockets.

Rey shone his flashlight around and he saw something further back than the area where he'd found the photo. He walked over towards it and knelt down again. Sylvia knelt down beside him, mimicking his movements. He smiled at her.

There was a small pile of trinkets grouped together on the floor with great care; buttons, a spool of brilliant blue thread, a bag of marbles, toys from her era, and the types of things that a child would find in the corners of a house and consider them buried treasure.

"May I?" he asked her.

She grinned and nodded emphatically.

He was very careful as he sorted through the things. Sylvia pointed excitedly at one of the baubles all of a sudden. It was about an inch long and stark white.

He picked it up in between his thumb and index finger and smoothed it over with his thumb. It had a long, sharp beak and huge eye holes. A little bird skull. It was striking.

"This is a…estornino…" Rey murmured to himself in Spanish. "What's the word?"

That was the trouble with being bilingual; sometimes his brain forgot a word in one language and could only say it in the other. He frowned and then smiled suddenly when he remembered the English.

"A starling?"

Sylvia smiled and cupped her hands. He dropped it gently into them and to his surprise, it didn't fall through.

"My boss- I mean, uh, my friend told me that there are owls out here. Did you find this in an owl pellet?"

Sylvia nodded, excited that he understood.

Owls could eat other birds, including starlings, but they would cough up all the unpleasant parts into their pellets- bones, feathers, etc. This was a whole skull.

"It's pretty," he told her, smiling.

She beamed proudly. A moment later she set it back down and picked up something else. It looked like another photograph, except without the sheen of modern film. It was tan and white like an old picture. It must have been from her time period.

Rey let out a small gasp as she handed it to him. He was afraid it would crumble at his touch, it looked so fragile.

In the picture were a beautiful little girl in a dress- Sylvia- and a lovely woman in a white dress that looked like a doily holding a pale parasol. They were sitting on a latticework bench in what looked like their backyard. Their garden. So there had been a garden once. It was probably overgrown now.

"Is this your mother…?" Rey whispered.

He looked up at the girl. She nodded tearfully and mouthed the word "Mama."

Rey wouldn't ever need to hear her say that word out loud or write it out for him. He could see that word in the eyes of his own kids even before they could form it on their lips. And he would run and get Angie right away if he could.

He smiled sadly. "Your mother."

Sylvia wiped her eyes.

"Come here baby girl. It's okay. You'll be all right."

She ran into Rey's side as he sat there, and he hugged her with the arm close to her.

He rocked her a little, feeling a little odd that he could hold a ghost. She felt solid and just as soft as any child, like she was the right weight and everything. He couldn't believe it. But his arm, torso and hands were all uncovered, so he felt like she was unusually cold. "It's okay to be sad, Sylvia, its okay."

She was squeezing him tight and kept her face buried against him as she sobbed silently. Her little shoulders shook. She probably hadn't had any physical contact since her death. The thought of it broke his heart: a sweet little girl completely devoid of any comforting touch at all for years and years on end. Completely alone in this old house.

He rubbed her back.

She was painfully cold to him on his bare skin, but he tried not to show it. The longer he held her, though, the more the marks on his skin spread. They were dark, maybe purple or blue, or even black, he couldn't tell in this light. The burns spread through his skin, but he felt like they were beneath it, dying the blood in his veins. They stretched out from his hand and his stomach where she was touching him directly and crept upwards along his arm and towards his heart. It ached horribly, but he knew it wasn't her fault she was hurting him and he was reluctant to let her go until she finished her cry.

Her skin wasn't skin any more; it was made of something unreal, something worse than ice. Finally Sylvia dried her eyes and upon opening them, she herself noticed that it was her touch that was burning Rey's skin.

She pricked his bicep when he wasn't looking and she saw the marks spring up when she touched his arm and he flinched.

He looked at her and knew he'd been found out.

She looked up at him desperately with a look that clearly asked why he was holding on to her if it hurt him so badly.

He kissed her forehead even though it burned his lips like dry ice. He didn't mind if it made her feel any better. "I'm right here. I'm not going to abandon you."

She looked up at him gratefully with trusting eyes. She knew from the marks on his skin that he would help her even if it caused him a great deal of pain.

"What happened to your mother…?" he whispered.

Sylvia broke away from his embrace to spare him any more hurt from her touch. The marks started vanishing off of his flesh the moment she removed herself. Rey looked down at himself and saw them starting to fade away. They looked almost like bruising, but some of them were as thin as a spider web. He watched as the marks were receding on his palm and back down at his body, where they were shrinking away from his chest and back towards the source of her touch on his abdominals. Astonished, he prodded the thickest, blackest area on his stomach. It looked like it would have been excruciating, but it was just numb. And then the marks vanished altogether and he could feel his skin again. He looked at Sylvia.

"It's…it's nothing, baby girl, it doesn't hurt," he lied.

She frowned at him. He could tell she saw through him.

"Well …it doesn't hurt any more," he told her honestly.

She saw he wasn't lying. She smiled weakly, glad that she hadn't caused any permanent damage to him.

She bent down and wrote on the dusty floor.

_My mother died._

He didn't want to frighten her with this next question. His tone of voice would be very important while he asked this.

"How did she die?" He managed to make enough concern slip in and as little worry as possible find its way through there. And most importantly, he filled his voice with love.

Sylvia furrowed her brow, thinking. She didn't seem to know how her mother had died. Maybe she was too young at the time to recall. But Rey thought that that was unlikely since she was a ten-year-old now and in the photo she didn't look any younger than six. A six-year-old would definitely remember her parents.

"Was she sick?"

Sylvia thought about that and shook her head.

Well, maybe her mother had been sick without her daughter knowing. Rey decided not to rule sickness out. People died of consumption all the time back then. They dropped like flies from all sorts of things that didn't make any sense to die from nowadays.

Rey sighed.

"I know you brought me up here so that I could help you. But what do you want me to help you do?"

Sylvia looked at him and pointed at the ceiling.

Rey frowned and densely looked up at the actual ceiling. He stared back at Sylvia for a second, not understanding.

She stared back at him, not knowing how to say it any clearer.

Just then she blinked and saw the rosary tattooed to his chest.

She dashed over and barreled into him.

"Sylvia, what are you doing?" Rey asked her, taken by surprise. She was touching the crucifix on his chest. "What?"

She poked him and looked at him sternly.

"Oh! The cross?" he asked her. She nodded frantically and pointed at herself, then at the picture of her mother, at the crucifix, and then at the ceiling again.

Rey understood now. "Oh, you want me to help you reach your mother in heaven!"

Sylvia exhaled in relief.

Rey chuckled at his own mistake. "Sorry, baby girl. That was silly of me to think you meant the roof. I don't know what I was thinking."

Sylvia sighed at him. The roof? As if.

Rey thought for a minute. "Sylvia, you know that you are…do you know that you were murdered?"

She nodded sadly. That was a relief. He didn't know how he would have explained to a ghost that she was dead. And that someone had killed her.

He thought again. "If I find out who killed you, will that help your soul rest?"

Sylvia nodded firmly.

"Okay. I'll try to find who killed you, Sylvia."

He looked at his watch, which he hadn't taken off because he knew he'd be on this outing. It was already one AM.

"I lost track of time, again, baby girl. I think maybe I should head back now."

She nodded reluctantly, understanding that he needed sleep in order to help her.

There was a single, circular window in the attic at the front of the house and it was ajar. The bitter, freezing wind blew hard and rushed into the small space through there.

Rey abruptly felt very cold.

"Ah…" he shivered, doubling over.

His skin felt so sore now, and after already making contact with Sylvia, his body couldn't handle much more intense cold.

Sylvia rushed over to him and was about to touch him, but then clutched her hands to her chest. She gazed at him, her eyes full of regret and concern.

"Don't worry, Sylvia, I just need to get warm again and I'll be fine," Rey said, his teeth starting to chatter. Jesus, the air chilled so quickly here.

He tried to stand and fell back onto his knees again, shuddering.

He was beginning to feel faint. He dropped the flashlight and it rolled a little.

He tried to warm himself with his arms, but it was no use.

Sylvia was very worried, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't touch him without freezing him further.

She looked into his eyes. They were starting to lose their focus. She knew that if he passed out, she might not be able to convince one of his friends to come help him.

She jumped up and down and picked up the flashlight and shone it into his eyes.

He blinked. "Ah, Sylvia…?" he shook himself and woke up enough.

"Sylvia, the wind is getting to me somehow," Rey managed to tell her.

Sylvia looked around desperately searching for the source of the air. She dropped the flashlight and sprinted towards the window. The hinges were metal, but they had rusted a long time ago.

Rey gasped suddenly and bent over, shaking horribly.

"Oh, God…" he murmured.

He'd never felt anything as cutting as this cold. It was making every inch of his skin ache and it felt as though it had penetrated deep into his muscles. She was terrified that he would die this way.

Sylvia leaned her back against the window and pushed with all of her might. Finally, it budged forward, getting unstuck. Then she pushed it closed.

Rey shivered, delirious with the immense pain and after a while the lack of wind blowing against his skin prevented it from freezing any further. He was lucky. If he had started to feel numb, then he would have been a goner.

"Uh…" he uttered the sound and closed his eyes a couple of times, opening them again. His vision became clear after a moment, and the searing pain lessened. He sat up slowly and picked himself up. He swayed for a moment on his feet, because standing apparently made the cold circulate through his system. Every footstep felt like he was sending a nail through his foot and pain shot upwards from there through his lower legs. He winced.

"Sylvia, I need to hurry and get back to my room, please," he pleaded.

She picked up his flashlight and he followed her down the steps, trying to breathe despite the freezing that was taking over his body. She would run down each flight of stairs and hold the light up to make his pathway clear to him.

She saw his breaths grow progressively raspier the further they went. He managed to make it to the last few steps of the second staircase by clinging to the railing before he stumbled. He startled himself, and gripped the banister, breathing heavily as he sunk to a seated position. It seemed the closer he was to lying down, the more the pain went away.

Sylvia ran over to him and shone the light in his eyes again, hoping it would make him move forward. He covered his eyes and she moved the light away from him.

"Sylvia, I…I can't," he panted. "I can't move, the more I move, the more it hurts…"

The little girl pulled at his pant leg and shone the flashlight down the hallway. He only had one more stretch to go before he would reach his room.

"Okay, okay…" he told her and pulled himself up, wincing. He stumbled down the hall, leaning against the wall with his palm and using it as a sort of crutch. He managed to get into his room and collapse onto his bedding, gasping for air.

Sylvia came over to him and looked at him mournfully. She was crying.

"No, no. Sylvia, it's not your fault. I just won't be able to touch you without gloves from now on, that's all."

She sniffed. He tucked himself into his sleeping bag and hoisted the blanket up. He threw it around his shoulders. He propped himself up slightly with his pillow. He held out his hand. "Here, let me get that for you."

She handed him the flashlight and he turned it off, setting it beside him. He could still see her in the dark because of her glow.

"I'll be fine as soon as I warm up and get some sleep, all right? I'm just cold, that's all."

Sylvia shook her hand and tears rolled down her cheeks. She was mouthing the words, "I'm sorry" to him.

"You didn't know that you were burning me, it's not your fault. I forgive you. It's all right."

She shook her head and inhaled sharply, crying harder. It was the first hint of a voice he'd heard from her.

Rey turned the blanket around and covered his hands with it.

He reached out to her and she was about to pull away, but then she saw that he'd covered himself.

"It's not your fault," he whispered gently, wiping her eyes with his blanket-wrapped fingers. He set his covered hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, laying her hands over his and squeezing it.

"See? That doesn't hurt me at all now," he said and smiled tiredly at her. She smiled weakly and kissed his hand through the fabric.

"Good night, baby girl."

He brushed his blanketed thumb just under her eye, wiping away her tears.

"Good night" she mouthed.

"I will see you tomorrow night, all right?"

She nodded, in awe of Rey. This man seemed like he would do just about anything for her. He barely knew her but already he seemed to have given her his heart. Sylvia decided after that night that he meant the world to her.

She went through his doorway and her footsteps vanished.

Rey lay down onto his sore back, wrapped himself up in everything he had, and fell asleep.


	8. Frostbite

Chapter 8: Frostbite

Day Three at the Haunted House

"Rey, why didn't you TELL ME that you thought you got frostbite last night?!" Batista screamed.

Rey blinked sleepily at him. "Yelling at me isn't going to help, Dave."

"ARGH!" Batista roared and ran his fingers manically through his hair.

"What the fuck do you want me to do for you?!" Batista demanded.

"You don't have to do anything," Rey suggested quietly. He was exhausted and didn't want to move out of his bedding. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

All of the guys rushed in because of the racket Dave was making.

"Good morning," Rey said weakly, smiling from where he was on his back.

"Rey didn't tell me until this morning that he thinks the ghost gave him frostbite!" Batista fumed. "And we have no fucking way to help him. "

Punk sighed. "Yes, we do. Go get the first aid kit, Cena."

"On it," Cena said and took off, bursting through the crowd again moments later.

"You don't have to," Rey rasped. "I'm just tired now. I went to bed at one and Dave insisted on waking me up at…"

"Five o'clock in the morning," Triple H said, looking at his watch.

Punk sighed. "Well, how about I take a look at you and make sure you're not hurt? And then you can go back to sleep."

Rey nodded permissively. Punk came and sat down by him.

Punk knew basic first aid and how to treat burns, frostbite, and perform CPR.

"Can you sit up? Or move at all?" he asked Rey.

"I'm kind of…immobile," Rey said weakly.

Punk stared down at him worriedly. "Does anything hurt, Rey?"

"No. I just feel like so much of my energy is just…gone."

"Where did Sylvia touch you that you thought she gave you frostbite, then? I still need to look, just to make sure you're okay like you say."

Rey nodded. "Well…my stomach."

Punk gently took away the blanket and folded back the sleeping bag.

There weren't any marks on Rey's torso.

Rey blinked slowly, drowsy.

"I don't see anything now, Rey. Are you sure you got burned by Sylvia?"

"I'm saying that touching her felt like touching dry ice. It burned. But the pain fades away when you pull away from her. And there are marks, but they fade, too."

Punk set his fingers against Rey's neck and Rey closed his eyes.

"Your pulse is a little slow."

Punk gently examined Rey's body, prodding him gingerly.

"It doesn't hurt anywhere that I touch you, does it?"

"No," Rey said honestly.

Batista didn't like Punk touching Rey all over his bare chest, arms and stomach like that. Rey looked so handsome lying down, his eyes hazy. He looked like a male Sleeping Beauty. Batista didn't want anyone but himself to touch Rey.

He growled possessively when Punk got out a battery-powered thermometer.

Rey gave a quick sigh. "Easy, Dave," he said calmingly.

Batista crossed his arms and grumbled.

"Could you hold this under your tongue for a minute?"

Rey opened his mouth and Punk stuck it in and Rey closed his lips weakly.

He seemed exhausted. Punk felt Rey's forehead and Rey closed his eyes like a child being examined by a parent.

"You don't feel warm," Punk murmured and the thermometer beeped.

He took it from Rey's mouth.

"Your temperature's a little low. Ninety-eight degrees. You need to get back to a ninety-eight point six."

"Am I sick?" Rey asked quietly.

Punk frowned. "Well, other than a slightly low temperature and the fact that you look exhausted, I don't think you're sick or injured, Rey."

"Thanks for checking anyway," Rey said, smiling weakly.

Punk nodded and tucked the sleeping bag and blanket back up over Rey.

Rey shut his eyes.

"Why the hell would you touch a ghost in the first place?" Batista demanded.

Rey sighed and opened his eyes again.

"Sylvia showed me a photo of her and her mother. God only knows what happened to the poor woman. The picture made Sylvia cry, so I hugged her," Rey explained calmly.

That sounded just like him to risk physical harm in order to comfort someone else.

Punk turned and glared at him. "Batista, he's been through a lot. He's worried sick about Jericho going missing and he's literally seeing ghosts. That would be enough to shock anyone into needing a little extra rest. Are you sure you want to deprive him of his sleep?"

Batista blinked and held his arm sheepishly. "I-no, no, I don't want to hurt him."

"Then let him get some sleep, Batista."

"Dave, I'll see you in a few more hours," Rey whispered.

Batista's face darkened. "Are you kicking me out?"

"You can stay if you just stop shouting at me."

Batista glowered and stormed out of the room.

"Why is he so angry with me lately?" Rey rasped.

"I don't know, Rey," Punk answered.

Everyone stood around.

"Go back to bed, guys, Rey needs to rest," Punk said, dispersing everyone.

Rey swallowed. "That's what I get for not dressing warmly enough at night."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Sylvia's skin doesn't hurt mine unless I touch her directly. If I had put a shirt on like Dave wanted me to, then Sylvia never would have burned me."

Punk nodded. "Well, everyone makes mistakes. But I never would have guessed that ghosts could ever become solid, let alone that their skin would feel like dry ice."

Rey nodded. "Yeah. And it stopped hurting the second she pulled away. It only hurt again later because the wind got into the house through an open window and like I said, I was stupid and not wearing a shirt."

"Why did she pull away?"

"She thought she was hurting me."

"She was though, wasn't she?" Punk asked him gently.

Rey gulped. "I could handle it."

"Rey…"

"You haven't seen her. She looks at me like she hasn't touched another human being in decades. She's so lonely, and she looks right through me with those eyes, just begging for help, Punk, just begging me…"

Punk set a hand on Rey's shoulder and rubbed there. "Rey, I don't blame you at all for feeling bad for her."

Rey bit his lip.

"We all just wish you wouldn't let yourself go through so much pain. Maybe that's why Dave's mad at you. Because you seem like you let yourself get hurt. And you know how he feels about you."

Rey frowned. "I've told him a million times I don't love him. He needs to stop breathing down my neck about every single thing I do."

"Well…what if you're becoming self-destructive by letting yourself get hurt this way?"

"Sylvia didn't mean to hurt me. She won't do it again. And I won't give her the opportunity to."

Punk sighed. "Promise?"

"Yeah. I told Sylvia I have to wear gloves or something around her from now on. She understood."

There was a brief silence.

"Hey, Punk?"

"Yeah?"

"I learned something else about ghosts that I think you might find interesting."

"What?" Punk asked, trying not to sound too eager for the information.

"Sylvia told me that she can't always hold things."

"Oh, really? That's interesting. You mean she said she _can_ hold things sometimes?"

Rey nodded. "She has this little stash of things that she's brought up to the attic. Like little kid stuff, you know? Just trinkets. She has that photograph of her with her mother. Michelle gave Sylvia a photo too, of her with all the Divas."

As he said it, Rey remembered he'd forgotten to take it out of his waistband. He fidgeted around for a second and pulled it out up over the covers, handing it to Punk.

"I hope I didn't wrinkle it too much," Rey said.  
"Its fine," Punk assured him. "She wanted you to have it?"

"Yeah. I think it's supposed to help me assist her in passing away."

"Is that what she needed your help doing?"

Rey nodded. "I think so. That's pretty much what she told me."

"That makes sense," Punk said. "But to help her pass away…that means you're going to have to find out all the gory details of her death. Rey, are you up for that?"

"If it'll help her go to heaven, I'll do anything she asks me to," Rey confessed.

Punk frowned at that. He had a feeling that Rey would let himself get horribly injured or even killed in order to help this girl. And he barely knew her. Why did he feel so strongly that he had to protect her?

"You don't have to go it alone, you know."

Rey thought for a minute. "I told Sylvia I'd meet her at midnight tonight. I'll ask her if it's okay if I introduce her to you guys."

"That's a good idea, Rey. Having everyone meet Sylvia would kill two birds with one stone."

"How is that?" Rey asked, confused.

"Well, it'll help you because some of the guys might know how to assist you in helping Sylvia pass away. But it'll also solve your problem, Rey."

"What's that?"

"Well…I was lying when I said I didn't know why Batista was mad at you. I didn't want the other guys in the room when I told you about it."

"What did you want to tell me?" Rey asked, concerned.

"Batista thinks you're making it up about Sylvia. He thinks you're…with Cena every night."

Rey swore profusely. "That paranoid, overgrown, fucking, man-child!"

Punk sighed. "I know. Sorry."

Rey exhaled through his nostrils, furious. "If I was gay, I hope I'd have enough sense not to date inside the WWE, they're all paranoid. Dave is just…arrgh." Rey rubbed his eyelids, frustrated.

"He's so jealous and bitter; he won't ever believe what I say. Even though it's the truth. I mean, I know it's farfetched, seeing a ghost. But it's also farfetched that those cameras got drained and that Jericho got kidnapped, so we know that there _is_ paranormal stuff happening here! I don't know what other proof I can give him!"

"That's what I'm saying about introducing him to Sylvia. He won't doubt you anymore when he sees her," Punk explained.

"You really think he'll get off my back then?" Rey asked Punk desperately.

"I think he'll have to eat his words and swallow all of his jealous bitching," Punk stated firmly.

"Now get some sleep, Rey."

"All right. Thanks, Punk."

They let him sleep almost the whole day. He woke up on his own and wandered out yawning at four PM.

"Buenos…" Rey looked at the clock. "Tardes."

Rey suggested to everyone that they come and meet Sylvia at midnight and they all agreed to it. All but Batista.

Rey exhaled patiently and knew he could always convince his friend to come later.

Day Four at the Haunted House (At Midnight)

Rey put on socks, sneakers, pajama pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. Then he slipped on his wrestling gloves.

Batista frowned at him. He much preferred last night when Rey was shirtless.

"What?" Rey asked him when he saw his friend glaring at him.

"You're wearing an awful lot of clothes for your boyfriend tonight."

"You have a sick mind, Dave," Rey said and sighed exasperatedly. "Come on out and meet Sylvia. Then you'll know that I was with her at night, not some guy."

"You better hope she shows," Batista said sarcastically.

"She will," Rey said firmly.

Rey walked out into the hallway past the painting. He asked everyone to stop just behind the painting so as not to scare Sylvia away.

Rey turned on his flashlight like always and stood there quietly.

Nothing happened for a minute.

"Come on, baby girl; please…don't pick tonight not to haunt me," Rey whispered.

The flashlight went out. He knew that meant that Sylvia must have materialized. Rey couldn't see her anywhere though, and neither could anyone else.

Rey hurriedly changed the batteries in the flashlight.

"You _were_ lying," Batista said angrily.

"Just wait a second," Punk told him. "She'll show up."

Rey swallowed. He knew Sylvia was somewhere out here in this house and that she could hear him. He had to convince her to come over to him.

"Sylvia! Sweetheart, you know I wouldn't let anybody hurt you! Please just come out for a minute!" Rey called.

He stood still for a moment and dropped his eyes, disappointed, and turned around, when suddenly the little girl vaulted into the back of his legs, hugging him.

He looked down and grinned at her.

"Thank you, baby girl. I'm sorry I brought the guys, but they thought I was crazy. They thought you weren't real."

Sylvia looked up at Rey and then frowned at the others as if to say, "I am _too_, real."

"Holy shit, man! What the fuck is that chick?!" Cena blurted in a high-pitched voice, scrambling to hide behind Randy and clutching at the smaller man's shoulders.

"Calm down! Haven't you ever seen a little girl before?" Rey demanded. He narrowed his eyes at Cena.

"And don't you even think about swearing again in front of a child."

"My bad!" Cena apologized quickly.

Rey gazed gently back at the ghost.

"Sweetheart, do you want to say hello?"

The little girl eyed the huge men surrounding Rey warily and kept clutching at his leg.

"It's okay, these are my friends."

The girl looked at him hesitantly. She held up a finger like she had when she'd thought to write in the dust earlier, but the floor was made of wood here and plus she was facing them. She'd have to turn her back and write things down and then stand up again and move behind the words for them to be seen.

The girl pouted, thinking about the dilemma.

"She wants to talk," Rey explained. "Is there any other way she can communicate with me other than by writing?"

"She can try to talk and we can read her lips," Punk offered.

Rey smiled excitedly. "That's an idea!"

"I can read lips," Jeff Hardy said.

"How'd you learn that?" Punk asked him.

Jeff stared at him. "What?"

"Oh, never mind…" Punk muttered.

Rey turned back to the ghost. "Sweetheart, can you move your lips as though you're talking? Then we can understand you."

The girl looked unwilling at first, but then slowly she mouthed a sentence to them.

"Hello. My name is Sylvia," Jeff translated.

Rey smiled warmly at her.

The girl smiled and clapped excitedly at having been understood.

She came out from behind Rey and curtsied to them.

They all smiled. She was the cutest thing.

She greeted all the guys one at a time, with Rey close at hand for her to run back to if she ever felt uncomfortable.

She liked Randy and Jeff, and absolutely adored C.M. Punk. She played with his gorgeous, straight, jet-black hair and giggled. He smiled.

"I like your hair, too," he said, laughing.

Batista came forward last.

Sylvia bolted back behind Rey's leg, sensing anger from Batista.

Rey set his hand on her head protectively.

"This is Dave. He's my best friend."

Sylvia looked doubtfully up at Rey.

"But he's a little mad at me right now," Rey explained to her.

Batista muttered an apology.

Rey smiled sadly at him.

"Sylvia, can they do anything to help me help you?"

Sylvia stared up at Rey and then looked back to Jeff, her translator, and mouthed a long message.

"She says that she only wants you to come with her to places in the house. She says she has something important to show you."

Punk frowned. The one time Rey hadn't been too stubborn to ask for help was the one time that this ghost wouldn't let him have any.

Rey looked at the ghost girl. "Sylvia, some of these guys are much smarter than me. And all of them are bigger and stronger. I'm sure that one of them would be better at helping you than I would."

Sylvia frowned sternly at Rey and told Jeff something.

"She says that she doesn't care about how strong you are. She says that there is something in your heart that she trusts. It has to be you that helps her because of your heart."

Rey blinked, astonished at the girl. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, squeezing the fabric of his pant leg and staring up into his eyes.

Rey smiled softly at her, flattered.

"If you say so, sweetheart. But if it involves a lot of heavy lifting, I have to tell you, you would be better off with Dave than with me."

Sylvia giggled and shook her head.

Batista smiled in spite of himself. She was a sweet little girl. He could see why Rey was so attached to her already.

"All right. Good night, everybody. Go back to bed. I'll tell you how it went in the morning," Rey said as Sylvia kept pulling at his pant leg.

Everyone waved goodbye to the pair and shuffled back into their rooms. Everyone but Batista, who seemed to want to say something to Rey.

Rey waited patiently, but after a minute, Sylvia grabbed his hand and started pulling all of her little weight to try to lead him where she wanted to go.

Rey glanced up at Batista. "I'll see you later, Dave," he said, smiling a little and turned to go. "All right, all right, Sylvia. I'm coming."

Sylvia led Rey downstairs and out the front door of the house. She walked out into the forest. Rey hesitated for a minute before stepping through the trees. He hoped they wouldn't be long out here. He preferred to be lost inside the house than outside of it.

Meanwhile, inside the house, everyone but Batista had gone back to bed. He was pacing, debating whether or not to follow Rey. He went to the railing and looked down the stairs.

He blinked disbelievingly. The stairs were spattered with blood.

"What the…?" Batista blurted. He looked down over the banister.

A woman in an old-timey white dress lay dead at the bottom steps, her head touching the floor. The back of her skull was split open and her limbs were bent the wrong way. She lay in a pool of her own blood.

Batista stared in horror, but in a moment the woman's body vanished and he whipped around, looking for where all the blood had gone. His thoughts started going a mile a minute. Rey's voice played over and over in his head, full of worry and fear.

_People get pushed down the stairs by the ghosts_

_But his wife disappeared a couple of years before his daughter was found killed in here_

_Pushed down the stairs…_

_No one could ever find out what happened_

"REY!!" Batista screamed, bolting down the stairs and out the door.

He had to find his friend before something happened to him out there.


	9. The Woods

**I would just like to say thank you to all of my reviewers. Please keep reviewing! I have like three other fanfics in the works right now but it'll be awhile before they're ready to be uploaded. Until then I can gurantee you I'll finish "Afraid of the Dark". I would love it though if people would comment more on the plot or tell me what they would like me to add in the future. ****I appreciate the reviews that say "it was good, I loved it" or whatever. But, uh...w****hat exactly was good about the story? PLEASE TELL ME! THANK YOU! MUCH LOVE!**

Chapter 9: The Woods

"I wish I had some breadcrumbs to leave a trail back," Rey said conversationally.

He was following Sylvia through the woods beside her house.

Sylvia looked back at him and giggled.

"You know the story of Hansel and Gretel?" Rey asked her.

Sylvia nodded.

They were quiet for a few more minutes. Rey had to be careful not to trip. The forest had become thicker. They were pretty far in.

"How much further is the spot you need to show me, Sylvia?" Rey asked her.

Sylvia stopped, turned and stared at him.

He'd forgotten to use a yes or no question again.

"Is the spot far from here?"

Sylvia thought and then nodded.

Rey sighed. "Well…I guess that's all right. Keep going. The faster we reach it, the faster I can head back, right?"

Sylvia beamed at him and nodded.

Her face brightened with an idea and she dashed ahead of him.

"Sylvia, wait!" Rey shouted and caught up with her a minute later. Then he realized what she was doing. "All right, lead the way," he told her.

She could run ahead far enough to where she was just in his line of sight and then when he almost reached her she would take off again. It was faster this way because Sylvia didn't have to slow down to Rey's graceful stumbling through the woods.

They kept at this for about two minutes.

Then suddenly when Rey reached the spot he thought he'd seen the girl, she wasn't there. He froze and shone his flashlight all around him.

"Sweetheart, where'd you run off to?" he called.

She didn't come back.

He was surrounded on all sides by enormous, black pine trees.

It was cold and the wind didn't help.  
He shivered and wondered about his body temperature, hoping he wouldn't make himself sick by being out here.

"Sylvia, where are you?"

Rey got a bad feeling.

_Damn it, baby girl, this isn't the time to play games with me._

"Sylvia!" Rey shouted. "Stop playing hide and seek, I need to go straight to the spot you wanted to show me! We'll play later back at the house but it's too dangerous out her in these woods, okay?"

No answer.

Rey was worried now. Where was she?

"Sylvia, please come out, baby girl, you're scaring me!"

Rey listened closely.

He heard a bloodcurdling female scream.

Rey started and looked around, but there was no one there.

His voice stopped working and wouldn't rise above a whisper. It occurred to him suddenly that maybe there was more than one ghost. Or that there could be another living person out here other than him.

Rey tried not to hyperventilate and tried to retrace his footsteps, but it was no use, he was thoroughly, thoroughly lost. His footprints hadn't made a dent in all of these leaves.

He sat down for a second, shaking in fright.  
_Maybe if I wait until morning I'll be able to find my way out._

He knew that wasn't true. He was too far in for that.

_Maybe someone will come looking for me. _

_Tonight? No, they're all asleep. In the morning? No, they don't know you're out here._

_And from the sound of that scream, Sylvia won't come back for you. And whatever scared her or took her is probably coming after you next. _

A rustling of leaves made him freeze and his heart started pumping more blood than could possibly be needed to fill his entire body. He put the flashlight's beam of light against his stomach, smothering it, scared to turn it off lest the click give away his location. But the light would give him away faster.

_Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…_

He stood and started backing away. He knew that was a bad idea, but at this point everything was a bad idea, he just needed to escape.

A tall, black, bulky shape kept moving towards him, coming steadily, like it was looking right at him.

He didn't think. He just threw the flashlight at it.

"OW! FUCK! Jesus Christ, Rey, what did you do that for?!"  
Rey stood still, shaking. His voice returned a little.

"Dave…? Is that really you…?"

"Of course it's me, who the fuck did you think it was?!"

Rey ran over to his friend. Batista was rubbing his head in pain.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I thought you were a serial killer or something."

Batista glared at him. "Jesus, who taught you to throw?"

Rey shrugged. "I-I don't know. Did it hit your head?"

"_Yes_, it hit me in the head, God, I think I might even be bleeding…"

"Let me see." Rey picked up the flashlight and positioned it a little ways away from them so that it illuminated both of them. Batista _was_ bleeding.

"Oh, God. I'm so, so, sorry, Dave, I…I was scared, it was stupid, I'm so sorry," Rey apologized, gingerly touching the wound on Batista's temple.

He winced.

Rey gulped worriedly and tore off a piece of the bottom of his shirt.

"Rey, don't do that, I'll be fine-" Batista protested, not wanting to make Rey feel guilty.

"No, I can get a new shirt. I can't get you a new head. So just hold still."

Rey pressed down on the wound with the makeshift gauze. With the added pressure, the pain lessened.

Batista looked at Rey, who had only just stopped shaking in terror.

"Its okay, Rey, I know it was an accident. Sorry I came up behind you without warning."

Rey swallowed. "How did you know I was out here?"

Batista dropped his eyes. "I-I followed you."

Rey took the piece of cloth off. Batista's cut was clotting.

"Why?" Rey asked weakly.

Batista didn't know what to say.

"Do you really not trust me that much, Dave?" Rey asked sadly.

Batista shook his head. "No. I-I just want to protect you."

Rey looked away and tore off another strip of his shirt.

"Come here."

"What?"

"I need to wrap up your wound."

Batista leaned his head in and Rey carefully wound the cloth over his head and tied it.

"I'm sorry I thought you were with a guy all this time at night, Rey that was…"

"Jealous and insensitive," Rey supplied.

"Yeah. I was being a dick. I'm sorry. I'm such a screw-up; I don't even know how you put up with me."

Batista hung his head.

Rey touched his cheek. "Dave…you're not a screw-up. Don't think that way."

"Well, what good have I done you lately? I've just accused you of things that I had no proof of!" Batista's eyes were glistening now.

Rey thought for a moment and pulled off a glove and held up his finger.

Batista looked at him. "You still have that band aid on?"

Rey smiled. "Yeah."

Batista smiled for a second.

"But I can only do little things for you. You always do me huge favors. I'm not a…" Batista swallowed. "I'm a bad friend."

Rey stared at him. "Dave, no, no. You're not. You're just…stressed. We're all stressed right now. You're a very good friend, you are."

"You just can't think of any examples of nice things I've done for you recently other than giving you that band aid," Batista reminded him. "I do little things for you, Rey. And anybody could do those favors for you. I can't help you with the things you can't fix yourself. And that kills me."

Rey looked at him for a minute and then said quietly, "Dave, don't knock the little things. I _am_ a little thing, remember?"

Batista smiled.

They embraced each other. Batista was glad Rey was a better friend than he was. Maybe that made up for his shortcomings.

"I am so sorry I hit you with that flashlight just now. But I'm mad as hell that you're stalking me."

Batista sighed as they came apart. "You never answered me. Who taught you to throw?"

"You'll laugh," Rey warned as they both stood up and started to walk out of the woods.

Batista led the way because he had an uncannily good sense of direction.

"Uh, I'll try not to…?" Batista offered.

Rey shook his head. "No, you'll laugh, I'm not gonna tell you."

"Your papi?"

"No."

"Your tío? Your uncle?"

"No."

Batista frowned.

"My mama," Rey said finally, grimacing.

Batista's eyes widened. "Your _mother_?"

Rey shrugged.

"Wait…how did she learn how to throw like that?"

Rey shook his head. "I have no idea. Mexican women all have like, super powers if you give them kitchen utensils, that's all I'm gonna say."

Batista chuckled. "Poor you," he said, thinking of Rey having to dodge projectiles as a kid when his mother was mad at him.

"My poor father, really," Rey admitted, sighing.

"Ouch."

They made it back to the house and went to sleep.


	10. Vanishing Act

**Here's a little bit of terror for you!! *wink* Brirey, don't you worry, it's about to get scarier!!!**

Chapter 10: Vanishing Act

Day Four at the Haunted House

The morning was kind of awkward as they all sat in the living room.

"Are you still mad at me?" Batista asked Rey quietly.

"I'm grateful you came and got me last night, I am, I would have been lost in there until morning or worse if you hadn't found me. But…I don't really like the reason why you were able to find me," Rey explained.

He was a nervous wreck, twitchy and frightened by any noise he couldn't identify. Batista had told him that morning about what he'd seen on the stairs. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he felt like maybe having another piece of the puzzle might help Rey solve this thing.

Everyone silently noted that Batista had an immaculately cleaned little cut on his temple that someone had stuck some gauze and medical tape over when they'd gotten back.

Batista had loved that the injury had made Rey put his hands all over him, but he didn't like that it was one more thing for Rey to fuss over until he worked himself up into an anxiety-ridden mess.

They'd both explained to the others where they went last night. No one knew where Sylvia could have gone or why she would have screamed out there except that maybe there was another ghost on the loose, and that was the one that had taken Jericho.

"You should be the one angry with him, Batista, he hit you in the head with a flashlight," Shawn said.

Rey squeezed his pant legs and looked guiltily at Batista.

"You shut your trap; he apologized like eighteen times and nearly gave himself a seizure worrying about this cut," Batista growled.

"Dave, I'm sorry, it was an accident, I-" Rey said for the nineteenth time, terrified that Batista hated him for his mistake.

Batista touched Rey's hand, which was sitting on the luchador's thigh. "Rey," Batista said very gently.

Rey blinked and stopped talking.

"Don't worry about it. It's over with."

Batista smiled at him. "Okay?"

Rey squeezed his friend's hand and nodded. "Okay."

Shawn glared at them. He really hadn't expected Batista to be the one to hold their friendship together when Rey wasn't up to it. Was there really not a weak link between the two of them?

"Should we go back into the forest and look for Sylvia? Or try to find what she wanted to show me?" Rey asked, speaking to no one in particular.

Batista eyed Rey. "You can't find your way back to where you were, can you?"

Rey fidgeted. "You know I have a really bad sense of direction…"

"Can you find your way back without me?"

"No," Rey admitted. "All those trees look the same at night…I don't know where I was."

Batista sighed. "I'll take you back there, just not today, Rey."

"But, Dave-" Rey pleaded.

Batista shook his head and crossed his arms authoritatively. Now was one of the first times anyone had seen their roles reversed. Rey, despite being younger and more on the petite side, was typically the one to take the reins in their relationship.

"No buts, Rey. We're not going out there again just yet. I got a bad feeling about those woods." He looked at his friend. "You won't try to go in there without me, will you?"

Rey shook his head. "No."

Silence.

"So we never did find that basement door, did we…?" Triple H put in.

"Let's try to find it today," Rey suggested, glad that there was something for him to do now.

"All right. Let's break up into the groups we were going to film in and search for that door, then," Triple H said. "Hop to it, people."

FOUR GROUPS

Jeff Hardy and C.M. Punk

Rey and Batista

Chris Jericho, Edge and John Cena

Randy Orton, Triple H and HBK

Rey and Batista were on the second floor. The search was taking them forever because they had to knock on all the walls and try to make sure windows weren't actually doors in disguise and that lamps weren't secret levers to hidden passageways like in Scooby Doo or something. They were deep into a hallway and Dave had turned on their flashlight in order to see through the shadows. The sun couldn't light this place all the way through even at the height of the day.

"Rey, could you walk forward a little?" Batista requested suddenly.

"Why?" Rey asked, looking over his shoulder at Dave.

"You're standing on something."

"Some people call them 'rugs', Dave," Rey said dryly.

Batista rolled his eyes. "No, not the rug. Something's under the rug. It looks like a trapdoor."

"Trapdoor?" Rey repeated curiously and stepped forward a pace or two, turning around.

There was a profound creaking sound from the floor beneath him and the boards snapped suddenly.

Rey gasped and dove forward, clinging onto the edge of the hole in the floor. He was hanging onto one floorboard and that whined for a second before breaking, too. He managed to bolt over to the left to a better floorboard before he dropped.

Rey gasped for breath, shocked. From the waist down he was just dangling in midair over some gaping black abyss.

Rey had caused a domino effect. The floor groaned and fell away within an ovular radius of where Rey had been standing when he fell through initially.

He blinked, frightened. "Dave…"

The floor behind him creaked and moaned for a minute and snapped and fell away into the blackness. Rey shivered anxiously.

Batista gasped. Rey was too far away from him to reach; at least a yard too far. There was still another yard of floor in front of Rey that lay in between the hole he was dangling over and the wall.

"Rey! Try to get back over to me! Try that ledge in front of you near the wall! It looks stable!"

Rey swallowed and inched forward it.

It collapsed under the shifting of his weight and he grunted, throwing himself forward, managing to get his hands on the single floorboard that was directly beside the wall. Rey was holding on only by his fingertips. Luckily he was wearing his wrestling gloves and so his traction was solid.

Rey gulped and grunted again, lifting his body below him.

He pulled himself up over the edge and pressed himself against the wall.

Batista grabbed Rey and retreated with him back a safe distance from the hole. Dave pulled Rey into his lap protectively. They were on the solid floor a few feet in front of where the trapdoor had been.

"I think you were just a little bit wrong about that ledge, Dave," Rey panted.

"Yeah, uh…sorry about that."

"Thank God you're that fast, otherwise you would have been a goner," Dave noted worriedly, squeezing Rey's waist.

Rey nodded. "I don't know how I…how I did that. My reflexes just kicked in."

"You okay, man?" Batista asked Rey, who was still breathing through his mouth and nose at the same time.

Rey felt like he'd never get enough air in his body. Jesus, that was so scary. Who could've expected the floor to collapse like that?

"Why do you think it fell through like that?" Rey asked, looking over the edge from where he was. It was pitch black down there, but on the other side he saw some stairs leading down. They were tan-colored but that was probably the color the dust leant them. And they were probably supposed to have railings, too, but those were long gone. Rotted away. Most of the house was made of wood, and the stairs were most likely wooden, too. The problem with that now is that wood that old ceases to hold any weight at all, regardless of what weight class you are. Even Rey could fall straight through them, they just weren't that stable.

"You fell through the part just behind the trapdoor, the part of the floor that the trapdoor was hooked onto. The trapdoor dropped off down into the hole when the boards holding its hinges collapsed."

"That makes sense. But…why did the floor I was on drop away in the first place?"

Batista felt around the floor where they were sitting.

"Because there are beams under this part. But there must not be beams under where you were."

"What? You mean, like, the foundation of the house is holding up certain parts but not others? How can we tell which part is stable?" Rey asked worriedly.

"No, no. The foundation is holding on everywhere where there _is_ a foundation. It's just that…" Batista shone his flashlight around the edges of the dark hole. At the far edge of the abyss was the tip of a beam beneath the floor. "There aren't any beams where the hole is. It has no foundation there, just the wooden floor on top of nothing."

"God, so there's a gap…" Rey said, understanding. "I could have fallen right through. This floor is so old and rotted it can't possibly support people walking on it any more."

"Why didn't they put beams under there?" he asked Dave.

"Because the stairs are right under that floor that collapsed. They couldn't put foundation and stairs in the same place, Rey."

"Why did they need stairs to go down beneath the-" Rey stopped himself. "This must be the basement, Dave, the house is supposed to have a basement, and we couldn't find the door for it."

"Well, I guess you just did find it then," Batista agreed.

"Don't tell me you want to go down there," he said, watching Rey's curiosity.

"I- no, no, what gives you that idea?"

Batista raised his eyebrow. "Your expressions are easier to read than a book, Rey."

Rey rolled his eyes. "No, I don't want to go down there and get attacked by the boogeyman. No."

"You do, too. You're interested now."

Rey turned away so that Batista couldn't see his face. He frowned and squinted and edged closer, but there was no use. He couldn't see from where he was.

"He could be down there, Dave; you don't know that he's not. He's probably in there. We checked all the rooms."

"There's the attic, too," Dave reminded him, swallowing.

"What? You'd rather I go fall through the attic stairs instead of the basement stairs?"

Dave frowned at him. "No. The attic looks stable. This doesn't."

"Well, guess where I was with Sylvia when she gave me frostbite the other night?"

Dave sighed. "The attic."

Rey nodded. "Yeah. And he's not up there. And you know that, too, come to think of it. You guys searched the attic, didn't you? Unless you lied to me and only _said_ you searched it!"

Batista twiddled his fingers sheepishly.

"Well, did you look there or not?" Rey demanded.

"We looked," Batista admitted.

"And?"

"And he wasn't there, no," Batista confessed. He really didn't want Rey to go down into the basement. He didn't like that big black abyss. He didn't trust it. And Rey was so sweet and little and handsome...if there was a monster or a socipath around, Dave couldn't stand to think what it would do to him.

Rey narrowed his eyes at Batista in determination. "He has to be in the basement, Dave."

"I know, Rey, but I don't want you to go down there."

"I'm all adrenaline right now. I could go down there. Just give me the flashlight, Dave, come on. I have to know where Jericho is."

Rey held out his hand.

Dave hid the flashlight behind his back.

Rey exhaled exasperatedly through his nose.

"Oh that's cute. Stop acting like a seven-year-old, I'll be fine!"

Rey stepped quickly to the side, trying to reach behind Dave and grab it, but Batista stepped back, avoiding him.

"You're not going down there, Rey, no! Just give it a rest!"

Dave walked over to the opposite side of the hole, leading Rey . If Rey wanted to go down the steps, then he'd have to walk away from them first. This was brilliant on Dave's part because even if Rey managed to snatch the flashlight, he would still have to run back a few yards to reach the stairs again. And Dave could most likely tackle him before he could ever get that far.

Rey noticed this and hesitantly followed Dave to the other side.

"There we go, now you can't get down there," Dave said once they were both on the other side, switching the light into his other hand.

"Give me the flashlight, Dave!" Rey shouted in frustration.

"No!"

"What's up, guys? Are you having a custody battle over your lighting equipment?" Punk asked, turning the corner with Jeff Hardy and shining his flashlight teasingly up into Batista's eyes.

Rey used the opportunity to snatch their flashlight away from Dave.

"Hey!" the Animal exclaimed.

Rey grinned wickedly and, mimicking Dave, tucked the light behind his back.

Batista glared at him. "You're not going down there and that's final."

Punk laughed and said, "What, these stairs over here?"

Rey looked away for a second and met Punk's eyes. "Yeah, those. We think that's the way to the basement."

"Our lost guy could be down there," Jeff piped up.

"Our sentiments exactly," Rey said.

Dave lunged for the flashlight and Rey hopped back easily.

"Ooh, too slow," Rey teased.

Batista reached and Rey dodged again.

Batista sighed. "Give it back, Rey. I can take it from you any time I want to. So just save your dignity and fork it over."

"I don't think you can take it back. So don't you worry about my dignity, you worry about your own," Rey asserted.

Batista narrowed his eyes. "I _can_ and I _will_ take that thing from you, now hand it over."

"I'd like to see you try to take it," Rey dared, lifting his chin confidently.

Batista charged and Rey sidestepped him at the last second on purpose so that Dave ended up clunking his forehead into the wall.

"Jesus! Stop fighting dirty with me!" Batista complained, rubbing his head.

Jeff and Punk giggled.

"Hey, no commentary from the peanut gallery," Batista ordered.

Punk shrugged, "We're getting free entertainment here, Jeff," he joked.

Jeff clapped his hands theatrically. "I wish I had some popcorn. It's Mysterio:3 Batista:0 right now."

Dave snorted. "He couldn't get the light from me until you guys showed up."

Rey laughed. "Oh, get over it. Cry me a river."

Batista whipped back around at him. "Admit it, Rey, you're a little cheat."

"And where exactly are the rules for grabbing a flashlight?" Rey reminded him.

Batista groaned and tried again.

After two minutes he was panting and leaning over his knees.

Rey bounced energetically up and down from one foot to the other like a boxer. "I still have it…" he tempted, waving it around.

Dave reached for it, but Rey pulled it back.

"Aw, fuck this shit," Batista rasped and didn't aim for the light, but Rey himself.

Rey blinked and felt his midesection get barreled into.

"Ow! Jesus!" Rey blurted, sprawled out flat on his back.

Batista snatched up the light from his hand before he could recover.

Rey glared up at him.

"Like you said, there aren't any rules for grabbing a flashlight," Batista said, offering Rey his hand.

Rey smacked it away. "You're a cheat, too, you overgrown bull."

Batista smirked. "Aw, you're just a sore loser, Rey."

Rey stood up by himself and brushed himself off. "I am not; you just can't ever resist using your weight against me, can you?"

"What, are you calling me fat, now?"

"I don't know, what are you, like five hundred pounds?"

Batista rolled his eyes.

"Break it up, now! Break it up!" Punk said, waving them down. He chuckled. It was funny to see the two friends not getting along for once and arguing like a couple of teenagers. "How about me and Jeff go down there for you and check things out?" he suggested.

"Yeah, we can do it," Jeff agreed.

Rey sighed. "All right, just be careful."

Batista frowned. "Watch the stairs."

"Scaredy cat," Rey muttered.

"I am not!" Batista yelled.

Punk set his foot daintily on the first step and patted it. He laid his sole down against it and it creaked. He winced and brought the other foot over. When it didn't cave, everyone breathed again.

Punk stepped down slowly, one stair at a time, and got to the bottom.

"About how far down is it?" Rey shouted.

"I'd say like twelve or fifteen feet!" Punk shouted back. "Come on in, Jeff, the water's fine!" he said, laughing.

Jeff smiled and pattered down the stairs quickly but gingerly.

Rey sat down on his haunches and furrowed his brow, waiting and listening as the two stomped around on the floor beneath him.

Batista didn't sit, and he couldn't stop walking around behind Rey.

"You're making me nervous, just stop moving," Rey told him.

"I can't help it, I don't like basements," Batista grunted.

"You _what_ now?"

"I don't like basements…" Batista repeated, mumbling this time.

Rey stared disbelievingly up at him. "At your size?" He turned back around, shaking his head. "You really are a scaredy cat."

"Stop calling me that or I'll find something high up to dangle you over," Batista threatened.

Rey was afraid of heights.

"I'm building a basement in my house the second I get back home," Rey taunted.

Batista huffed.

They were quiet for a minute.

Dave was about to say, "Don't," when they heard a loud snap.

Then a scream.

Rey's entire body froze.

"What was that?" Dave asked.

Rey stood up and scrambled over the edge of the hole to the other side before Dave could do anything to stop him.

"PUNK!! JEFF!" Rey yelled urgently from the top of the stairs.

Awkwardly, Dave followed him to the other side.

"Rey! Don't go down there without a light! Wait a second!"

"GUYS!" Rey shouted nervously.

He was nearly taken off his feet again as Punk bolted up the steps and ran his torso smack into Rey's face. Rey stumbled back and held Punk at the elbows.

"Easy! Easy! Where's Jeff?"

"We gotta go, we gotta go, Rey! We can't stay right here!" Punk blurted, jumping up and down and shaking.

"Why? What's down there? Where is he? Did he fall?"

Punk opened his mouth to speak, but he was too scared to answer. The flashlight in his hand was shaking.

Rey shook him. "Punk, where's Jeff?!"

"Something got him, Rey, I think it was another ghost, it sounded like a monster or a demon or something, man, we hafta leave, we hafta leave!"

"Okay, okay, go on," Rey said and pushed Punk towards the hallway. Punk crossed over to the other side of the hole, away from the basement stairs.

"Stay close to me, Rey," Batista ordered his friend and followed Punk halfway to the other side.

He assumed Rey was following him, but he wasn't.

Rey swallowed and inched closer to the stairs, looking down into the darkness, searching desperately for Jeff. He took a couple steps forward and nearly had his foot on the first stair when he jolted like he'd touched an electrical outlet.

"No, Rey, don't go down there!" Punk warned.

Rey flushed. "_Dios mio_."

He ran.

Batista seized Rey's arm roughly, not taking any chances on the luchador refusing to follow him again.

They all took off and didn't stop running until they made it into the living room.

Rey yanked his arm away from Dave and glared at him.

"I'm not your dog, stop pulling on me like that," Rey said, rubbing his bicep where Batista's hand had been.

The area of skin was a different color than the rest of Rey's arm; Dave's grip had been so tight.

"Sorry, Rey, I didn't mean to hurt you," Batista said sadly, reaching out to touch the marks apologetically.

Rey pulled back. "Get your hands off me!"

He stalked away.

Rey and Punk collapsed onto a couch. Punk turned off his flashlight, suddenly remembering that he had it. He was much paler than usual.

The Animal knelt down in front of the two men.

"What did you see?!" Batista demanded.

Punk didn't respond, he was too frightened.

"Rey?!"

Rey had fallen into deep thought, imagining what it was that he had seen. He shook his head. Everything he said came out in Spanish for a second for no reason at all.

"Fantasma…ah…muy mal…"

He shuddered.

"Rey, what are you saying?"

"Did he just say 'phantasm'?" Punk asked.

"Ci," Rey said. He shook himself. "I…I mean, yes, yes. A ghost. A ghost."

"Was it Sylvia?" Batista asked. "Is she turning on us?"

Rey shook his head fervently. "No, it wasn't her, she's…I feel like she's good. I never feel bad around her. What was down there, it…"

Rey frowned, forgetting how to describe it.

"You said 'muy mal' a second ago," Batista reminded him.

Rey nodded. "Yes, yes. That's it."

"It felt 'muy mal'?"

Rey nodded.

"Rey, I don't speak any fucking Spanish, so just calm down and translate that phrase for me."

Rey blinked. "Oh. Sorry. It means 'very evil'."

Batista flushed. "You saw a _very evil ghost_?!"

Rey shook his head. "I…I didn't see it clearly, it was like a shadow, like a shadow person, but it was so thick, like…not like fog, or clouds…just shadow," Rey said, thinking.

"Punk, did you see it clearly?" Batista turned to the other wrestler. "Was it a person? Was it a ghost? Was it one of the guys? What was it?"

Punk shrugged shakily. "I don't know. I can't say for sure. Just one second Jeff was right beside me and the next, he was screaming and something pulled him away from me into the dark."

He sniffled and dove into Rey. "Oh, God it was terrible! Jeff, I'm so sorry…"

Punk sobbed into the smaller wrestler's t-shirt.

Rey looked down at him pityingly and patted his back.

"We're using the fucking buddy system from now on," Batista concluded grimly.

"We have to call off the search for now, Dave; I don't want anybody else to get lost in the process," Rey said, rubbing Punk's back.

"Okay," Batista agreed. He just stood there.

He wished Rey would just get his damn hands off of Punk. He felt guilty that he was getting so possessive that he was at the point where he couldn't even tolerate Rey holding someone who was crying. But still, Rey should take his goddamn adorable hands off of him. He shook himself.

He was getting far too possessive; he needed to go back to anger management as soon as possible. Batista swallowed, looking at the bruises emerging on Rey's arm in the shape of his fingers. He made a mental note to ask his therapist, Dr. Jimenez why he'd done such a thing without meaning to.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?! Go get Shawn and Cena's groups!" Rey screamed angrily.

"Don't you start shouting at me just 'cause you're stressed! _Jesus_!" Batista swore.

"Go. Get. Them. Now!!" Rey fumed.

"Fuck you, Rey, I'm not leaving you two here alone by yourselves!"

"_Fuck_ your fucking loco-ass buddy system! GO GET THEM, PENDEJO!" Rey shouted.

"NO!" Batista argued.

Punk sat up and wiped his eyes. "We can all go together…"

Rey huffed and muttered obscenities and stood up, snatched Punk's hand in his, and stormed off.

Batista speed-walked to keep up with him.


	11. Trouble in Paradise

**My apologies to any Spanish speakers out there if I'm mangling the language beyond recognition. I don't speak any Spanish and I'm using an online translator so I bet I'm making mistakes left and right. Feel free to review and go ARRGH the GRAMMAR IS _WRONG_ FUTO!!! How could you?! Yesh. I knows. Sorrys. No hable. I probably should have just stuck to English but I wanted my Rey-Rey to speak some Spanish...**

**Brirey, thanks for being the first to point out a mistake in the Español. I'm not offended, don't worry. I knew a mistake was bound to happen. But dang it, I'm lazy. I'm not gonna kidnap Rey and make him teach me correct Spanish until....well, maybe tomorrow...**

Chapter 11: Trouble in Paradise

Day Four at the Haunted House

After lots of crazed shouting from all parties, they managed to run into Shawn's group, but no one had seen hide nor hair of John Cena's crew. Not to mention Triple H and Shawn were the only ones to come when called.

"Wait, where's Randy?" Rey demanded, putting his hands on his hips (he'd let go of Punk the minute he saw HBK turn the corner, not wanting to catch hell about that).

Triple H shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

He was notoriously careless about the state of his protégé's life, even though the real Randy Orton was the farthest thing from his devilish on screen persona.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're like a father to him!" Rey chastised.

Triple H shrugged.

"Whatever, you know how thin that little fucker is; he probably just turned sideways and slipped through a crack in the floor."

Rey rolled his eyes. "What room were you guys in when you lost him?"

"I don't know, some bedroom," Triple H said.

Shawn chuckled hysterically. "Oh, but it was _some_ bedroom…" he said, laughing.

"Oooh, lookee here!" Shawn said and zipped his fly back up.

Triple H sniggered.

Rey smacked himself in the forehead and turned around to walk away, nauseated. "Ay, dios mio, I'm gonna go gouge my eyes out…"

Batista grabbed the waistband of Rey's jeans. "Chill out, come on back, nobody's going anywhere."

Rey turned around and reeled himself back in. He knocked Batista's hand away. "Stop grabbing me," he said, annoyed, and crossed his arms.

"I don't want to hear about your guys' nasty old sexcapades," he told the two older wrestlers.

Triple H pouted.

Shawn was about to say something dirty but Batista cut him off.

"You won't be able to _have_ any other sexcapades if you don't shut your goddamn mouths about them."

Shawn swallowed. "Oh…okay," he chuckled nervously. "All righty then. Sorry we lost Randy, Rey."

Rey exhaled angrily. "You have no clue where he is? Did you hear a scream? When we lost Jeff we heard a scream."

"Oh, I heard a scream all right, but at the time I thought it was me, not Randy."

Rey gagged. "God…please tell me that he wasn't in the room when you two were…indisposed…"

Triple H shrugged. "Naw, I kicked him out. But yeah, I think I heard him out in the hall. When we went out he'd dropped the flashlight onto the floor and there was no sign of him."

Rey sighed anxiously. "I don't like this at all. First we lost Jericho and then Cena and Edge go missing and now Randy and Jeff are gone too."

"We're down to five people," Punk said quietly. "We started off with _ten_."

"I wish we had Randy here with his fucking calorie-counting calculator to tell us what percentage that is," Shawn sighed.

"That's 50%. Half. Half of ten is five," Punk stated, not sure if Shawn was being sarcastic or not. (Sweet banana pie, let's all hope he was being sarcastic.)

"I'm glad you're a wrestler and not a mathematician," Triple H sighed.

"Right back 'atcha big guy."

"He can add way better than you," Punk reminded HBK. "Oh, never mind."

"Wait a second. The ghost got Cena? Is this the same fucking ghost that we saw?" Batista said suddenly.

"Yeah, I think so," Rey said. "Why?"

"John Cena. Are you serious? Even a ghost... He's huge, how do you kidnap John Cena?" Batista asked.

They all thought about that.

"The man has a point," Triple H said.

They all walked back to the living room to think things over.

Rey and Punk plopped back down on their couch but Batista sat pointedly in between them.

Rey didn't seem to notice and that made Batista feel worthless; Rey didn't even care that he was being protective of him.

Shawn and Triple H sat in another sofa on the opposite side of the rug dividing the room.

"I don't know how the ghost was planning on snatching us, but I'm sticking with you guys. Yours was the only group that the ghost didn't get to," Triple H said, talking to Rey and Batista.

Rey paused. "Wait, really?"

Batista snorted and crossed his muscular arms impressively. "What, you thought I would let anybody grab you?"

Rey narrowed his eyes at him. "_I_ was the one babysitting _you_, you fucking gorilla."

"Hey! What's with the name-calling?!"

"Everybody just calm down, we need to think this through. Maybe Dave's right, maybe the ghost has a plan. Maybe there's a reason why he chose to kidnap the people that he did," Punk said thoughtfully.

They were all quiet.

"Jericho was the first one to go," Shawn said.

"Then Jeff," Rey said.

"Then Edge and Cena," Batista finished.

"Well, then again we don't really know about the order…" Triple H pointed out. "We didn't have walkie talkies or anything, nobody told anybody else the second someone disappeared."

Punk exhaled. "Okay, forget the order, then. We can't figure it out, so let's not think about the order. Why those people? Why them?"

Batista shifted around. "Well, at first I thought that the ghost was just snatching the medium or the smaller guys. Jericho's shorter than he looks. And Jeff and Randy are far from huge, let's face it. But then Punk got away, and Shawn's still here. And, uh…"

They all turned and looked at Rey.

"If the ghost was going after small guys then he definitely would have gone after Rey first," Batista said unnecessarily.

Rey's eyes flashed. "Fuck. You."

"Sorry, Rey, it was just a theory," Batista said sheepishly.

"Oh, now that you say it out loud, you realize it's the stupidest fucking theory ever?! I'll say it again! FUCK. YOU. DAVE."

Rey crossed his arms and stood up and sat down in a chair far away from Batista. Dave was stung by this, but he tried not to show it.

"Uh, okay…so it wasn't a physical thing," Punk concluded.

"No it was not. Now get on with it. Get a new theory," Rey fumed.

Punk gulped. "Uh, yeah…um…"

They had nothing. None of this made sense.

Punk spoke up. "If the ghost who was attacking people wasn't Sylvia, then we know nothing about it. It might not have even been a ghost. It might have been a living person."

That was unlikely because the house was out in the middle of nowhere, but then again it was also unlikely that the house was haunted in the first place.

"It could be an evil ghost, a total stranger who was most likely crazy and a serial killer, or one of the guys pulling a prank," Punk added.

"If it was one of us and he's just pulling a prank then that's Jericho," Triple H said. "He was the first one to disappear, he's a schemer, and he's big enough to have grabbed Jeff and Randy."

"Yeah, if it was a prank then I don't think Jeff and Randy were in on it," Punk agreed. "I love those two, but God knows they're not bright or sinister enough to come up with a plan to successfully kidnap half of us."

They all sighed.

"If it's one of the guys who's responsible for this then it could be anybody save for Jeff and Randy. That leaves too many options. That theory gets too complicated. Too confusing," Batista put in.

"I know, and your beautiful little 'grab the cruiserweights first' theory was sooo much better," Rey shot at him.

Batista swallowed. "I said I was sorry…"

"Not. Listening."

Punk looked at Batista and back at Rey. "Can you two please stop fighting for just one second? We need to work this out!"

Rey sat forward in his chair all of a sudden.

"It wasn't one of us, Punk! You saw that thing, too! You know it's not one of the guys! You know that! That thing emanated _ill will_, I'm telling you! And none of us are that psycho in WWE!" Rey reasoned.

"None of us that came on this trip, anyway," Shawn put in. "Kane would love it here. We might be staying at his vacation house for all we know."

Triple H managed to suppress his laughter at that.

"Well, then again, _you_ might be psycho enough to pull something like this off, you sick pervert," Rey informed HBK.

"I'm hurt, Rey. Really hurt," Shawn said sarcastically.

"That is true, though," Triple H agreed.

Shawn smacked him to the back of the head. "No more nookie for you for like a week."

Rey smacked himself in the forehead again. "I don't want to hear this…"

Triple H shrugged. "Whatever, HBK, you'll just come crawling back to me sooner or later."

"ARRGH! Can you just shut your mouths?!" Rey yelled.

Triple H shrugged again. "My bad."

Rey held his face in his hands. "Jesus, I don't want anybody to talk about sex any more, ever again…"

Batista sighed. "Rey…"

"I'm not talking to you, so you can shut up too for all I care!" Rey spat out venomously.

Batista's face fell. Rey must have been really hurt by that comment about his size. Dave couldn't blame him.

"Come on, guys, why? We still haven't dealt with why certain people were taken," Punk pressed.

"The ghost didn't get me, you or Dave because we all ran the hell out of there," Rey said. "I know that much."

Batista brightened. "Rey, that's it!"

"What's it?"

"Punk knows when to run and so do you."

"God knows _you_ don't," Rey reminded him. "There goes your theory."

"No! No! I was with you the whole time, and then Punk told me to take off!"

"What, you want a medal for taking advice for the first time in your entire damn life?!" Rey asked, still ticked off about Batista's size-related theory.

Batista tried to ignore that remark. "No, I don't. I'm just saying that I was safe because I was with you and Punk! Punk was safe because he's smart, and Triple H was safe because he's with HBK! All of the guys that got taken were not the brightest bulbs on the planet. Cena could have run, but he's so fucking stubborn he probably tried to get in a fistfight with the goddamn kidnapper and that's how they got him! The guys who were taken are dim, or stubborn, and don't know when to quit. Punk, Michaels and you, Rey, are the ones who always run."

Triple H grimaced. That had come out really, really badly.

"Oh, so I'm a coward now?" Rey inquired, absolutely death-glaring Batista by now. "I'm a small coward. Thanks a lot. That's great to know. Why don't you go fuck yourself Dave? Or better yet, head down into that fucking basement that you're so scared of!"

Dead silence.

"If you'd just phrased that nicer, Dave, he wouldn't have thought you meant that," Triple H whispered to Batista.

Rey rubbed his temples; exhausted, confused, scared, and thoroughly, thoroughly pissed off. "So what theories are we left with?"

"It's an evil ghost, demon, or stranger that took everybody. And it doesn't really matter which," Punk said succinctly. "They all seem like they're roughly in the same ballpark."

Rey nodded. "Okay. All right. Well…should we look for everyone again tonight?"

"I don't think we should start searching again just yet. All of our nerves are fried and we're tired and hungry and nobody's getting along. It would be dangerous to be wandering around an old house in darkness with no advantages at all," Punk advised.

Rey nodded. "Yeah."

"We can start searching first thing in the morning for the guys, though, Rey, don't worry about it," Triple H assured the luchador, seeing the concern on Rey's face.

Mysterio looked up at him and blinked. "Okay. Tomorrow."

"We'll find everybody, Rey, I'm sure they're all right," Punk added.

Rey nodded. "I hope so."

"Don't you start blaming yourself, I know that look," Batista warned him.

Rey looked Batista right in the eye and stared him down.

"I do not need you to tell me who I am and what I look like and what's good for me. I don't want to talk to you, Dave. Get that through your thick, thick, skull that I do not want _anything_ to do with you right now."

And with that, Rey stood up and stormed clear out of the room.

Batista was on his feet already.

"REY! REY, COME BACK HERE! YOU CAN'T JUST-" Dave swore. "Damn it, he's already gone upstairs."

Punk gasped. "Oh, God, look what you did! He's gonna go get himself kidnapped or worse, Dave!"

"God! Couldn't you lay off him for just one second? First you call him small and then you say he always runs? And now you're trying to tell him how to act?! Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Triple H demanded.

Batista bit his lip. "I didn't mean any of that, it just came out all wrong, and I didn't mean it that way."

Triple H shook his head. "Rey has never been anything but kind to you. And you insult him? He can't change his size! And he's not a coward, just because he's fast doesn't mean he's a coward! And don't even get me started about you laying into him about how he thinks." Triple H stepped within an inch of Batista's face, ready to start a brawl right then and there.

HBK sat back and grinned, loving the chaos.

"We're lucky that Rey thinks about us at all," Punk said quietly.

Triple H looked at him and backed off of Dave. He'd leave it to C.M. Punk to fight with someone intellectually.

"He thinks about you the most out of all of us."

Batista opened his mouth to protest, not wanting to get attacked for being Rey's pet.

Punk cut him off.

"You know it's true. He starts fights over you. He defends you to everyone. He's your friend. And you're lucky that you ever enter his mind in the first place. Rey doesn't have to think about you. You think he doesn't have enough crap to deal with already? He has a family he could be thinking about. And friends outside of wrestling. And fans. He could be thinking of just wrestling moves all the time and say 'fuck the guys, I don't care that they're bashing each other's faces in again.' He could leave us all alone, but he never does. He takes the time to pull us off each other, make us apologize, make us be okay with each other, clean us up, and pretty much tuck us in every night. Then he has to go and take care of himself. I can't even believe he has the energy to do it after spending a_ day_ with you, Batista, I really can't! Rey has to go through the whole process at least twice a day with you!"

Batista didn't know what to say. It was all true. Rey didn't have to take care of them at all. Or him. And he did it so well.

Punk kept going.

"Rey worries about us. He protects Randy and Jeff and humors Shawn and Jericho and laughs at Cena's jokes and compliments Triple H and Edge when they're down. He talks to me all the time," Punk had tears in his eyes now. "He doesn't have to, but he does. And you, Dave. He's so nice to you. And you never notice. You never thank him. And so he's scared that some of us have been taken and may not come back. He's hurt and he's worried about other people. How can you possibly fault him for that? He _loves_ us, Dave. And he loves you. You are lucky Rey ever thinks of you and you basically go and tell him you hate him for doing just that."

Batista was floored. Shawn Michaels nearly swallowed his own tongue; he was speechless for once.

Triple H nodded emphatically. He had been right to leave the mental smack down to Punk.

Batista blinked a few times and fell down into the chair Rey had been sitting in, miserable. "He thinks I hate him…oh, God, Rey…"

Rey came back downstairs briefly to eat something hours later. It was midnight.

Batista was lying on a couch pretending to be asleep and HBK was actually asleep on the other couch.

Punk and HHH rushed over to Rey, making sure he was all right.

Rey hugged Punk gratefully and assured him he'd been fine alone upstairs.

"Are you sure you're okay, Rey? Because I could come up with you," Punk whispered.

"Yeah, we both could," Triple H suggested.

Rey shook his head. "I need to be alone, I'm sorry. And I'd feel better if you guys would all stick together, at least. We don't need to split up. That's the last thing we need."

"But, Rey-"

"No buts. I want to be alone," Rey said firmly.

They were silent.

"I heard those talks you gave," Rey admitted quietly. "That was…that was nice of you."

Batista couldn't tell visually if Rey was smiling, but from that voice he knew he was.

"That meant a lot to me. Thanks, Triple H," Rey said, hugging him. "And thank you, too, Punk, that was very kind of you, all those things you said," he squeezed the Straight Edge superstar.

Batista could tell two of them had tears in their eyes.

"Rey, we don't want to lose you," Punk protested.

"Please stay down here with us, Rey, please," Triple H begged.

Triple H. Begging.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'll just be upstairs in the bedroom Dave and I had been sleeping in. If anybody needs me then they can come get me," Rey sighed. "Although if it's Dave that needs me, I recommend you send somebody else."

"Okay, Rey. Goodnight," Punk said, admitting defeat.

"Goodnight," Triple H echoed.

"Buenos noches."

And with that, Rey stepped almost silently back up the stairs.

Batista was surprised that he could sleep so soundly despite feeling so guilty and worried about Rey's safety.


	12. The Silent Treatment

**Wow. People's reactions to chapter 11, which I always thought of as "Batista is being such an accidental raving bitch right now" chapter can actually be interpreted in Batista's favor. I'm glad it can be construed both ways, because I didn't want to make Batista into a cookie-cutter villain, or a villain at all, really. He's just kind of a screwed up guy. I did mean it to be written as a really offensive chapter in Rey's perspective, and here's why… **

Chapter 12: The Silent Treatment

Day Five at the Haunted House

Upstairs Rey paced around furiously, swearing to himself in Spanish and then thinking in English and then coming out with rambling, angry Spanglish that hardly made sense, even to him.

He came to a halt at the beginning of the hallway where he'd first met Sylvia and he sat down beneath the lamp on the wall.

He waited for the ghost girl to appear, he called her name softly, he stood and wandered through the house, searching for her and returning to that same spot near the portrait. But he never found her.

"You probably scared her off with all of your swearing and whining," Rey muttered to himself.

He exhaled raggedly and rubbed his eyelids. Of course he was mad that Dave had called him a small, overly emotional coward. But he had been called worse before and not accidentally, as Dave had done it.

He could have worked things out with Batista under any other circumstances and Dave would have apologized willingly enough, too.

But those insults weren't the reason why he'd gone upstairs.

What it was was that he couldn't tolerate Dave's obsession for him in the light of all the chaos surrounding them. He had the patience to bear Dave's overprotective, possessive behaviors, normally. But right now was not a normal time. They were stranded in a haunted house and half their friends had been abducted and they were positive there was a malevolent spirit responsible for all of this.

Rey couldn't believe that Batista was still only thinking about winning his heart and not that their mutual friends could be dead in this very house and that they might not ever find them.

"How selfish can he _be_?" Rey murmured. "He doesn't care if they're alive, does he? All he cares about is…is just trying to get into my pants or something…"

This infuriated, confused, and saddened Rey. He couldn't understand how Batista wasn't worried about the missing wrestlers.

What he didn't think to consider was that none of the missing wrestlers had ever been very kind to Dave.

Some of them hadn't even been nice to Rey.

But that was where he and Batista differed. Batista was protective of Rey not only because he had a crush on the little guy but because Rey was nice to him. But if someone didn't give Batista a reason to be friendly to them, he wouldn't be. He didn't see any reason to go out of his way worrying about the conditions of Randy Orton and the other guys because he knew they wouldn't have worried about him if he'd been snatched up.

Rey, on the other hand, would worry about the wellbeing of someone who had been blatantly cruel to him. He had too big of a heart not to.

He was stubborn and he wouldn't try to do someone any favors if they'd hurt him or made fun of him. But he couldn't help but feel bad if they were injured or got in trouble with Mr. McMahon. He'd looked sad when he heard that Umaga had been fired and Batista had been shocked by this because the man had nearly broken Rey's arm once.

"Rey-Rey," Batista had said, confronting the luchador after everyone else had left the locker room.

Rey lifted his eyes to Batista calmly. "Yes?"

"Why are you upset about him going?"

Rey shrugged. "He seemed, um…" Rey fished around for a compliment.

"Well, he was a talented heel, don't you think?"

Batista sighed. "He hurt you. Remember that? And he used to shove you all the time in the hallways or in the locker room when I wasn't there with you."

Rey bit his lip. "I know, but-"

Batista set his large hand on the petite Latino's shoulder. "You don't have to feel bad for him. You don't owe him anything."

"I know I don't, but still…"

Batista sighed exasperatedly. "You've got that Catholic guilt thing going on for you."

"I do?" Rey asked him. He guessed he did. "Well, I can't help it. I was raised that way."

Batista hugged him and kissed his forehead lightly. "Let it go, mi amigo. He was a bad egg. You should be saying 'good riddance', not missing the poor bastard."

Rey nodded, but he couldn't seem to let it go.

It wasn't in his nature to easily hate people- even those who mistreated him.

It was in his nature to resent people who mistreated his friends, though. And if Batista hadn't been such a strong silent type and so bent on looking invincible for Rey, he would have told his friend that all of the other guys were cold towards him. They were all jealous of the animal's closeness with the luchador, and so they made Batista into an outcast when Rey wasn't there.

When the luchador was in the room with everyone, they would talk and laugh with him as they would with any friend. But the second Rey left then they glared at Batista and didn't speak to him.

And so Rey felt himself grow sleepy upstairs, sitting beneath the lamp and waiting for the ghost girl that wouldn't come.

He wandered into the bedroom he'd shared with Dave and he stood there for a moment, blinking groggily at Batista's bedding.

He kicked Dave's pillow across the room.

And he glared at it where it lay crumpled against the wall.

"Damn you and your one track mind, Dave. This is no fucking time to be thinking about me. Of all the people to be thinking about in this house you pick one of the few that's alive and safe to worry about."

And he changed into pajamas and lay down, feeling alone.

It was pitch black in the room and every sound that went through the old walls gave him chills. He was too pigheaded to admit that he had much preferred to sleep in this vast, creaky house with Dave near him.

**

In the morning Rey met them on the stairs fully dressed and wearing his gloves again. He'd taken someone's flashlight up with him evidently, because he had one now.

Punk suggested that they eat breakfast first.

Rey tapped his fingers along the banister and then shrugged silently. "Sure" the shrug said. "I'm not hungry, but I'll eat something" it said.

But Rey wasn't talking.

That was very, very unusual.

Rey wasn't even that much of a morning person, it's just that from the minute he was awake to the minute he fell asleep he was talking. He talked about everything to everyone in his soft, handsome voice. He spoke with a good pace, and interested, thoughtful words. He didn't chatter mindlessly or rapidly, but it was a steady stream of speech.

The guys joked with each other that Angie must have been weirded out every time Rey left to travel on WWE tours because she probably didn't know what complete silence sounded like.

Rey took a granola bar and wandered out onto the porch. They'd all been quiet, hoping that Rey would want to fill the void with small talk, but he didn't.

They all sighed disappointedly and talked amongst themselves.

"Hey, the pudding cups that we put into the cooler are gone!" Shawn blurted.

Rey perked up out on the porch, but didn't turn around or come back inside.

"Aw, that's sad, Jeff loved pudding cups…those were his…" Triple H said sadly.

"Randy's vitamin waters are gone, too," Punk reported.

"Really? That's just…this is getting creepy. What else is gone?" Shawn inquired.

"Edge's potato chips and Jericho's donuts and Cena's, uh…" Triple H said, his voice trailing off.

"What? What did he have?" Shawn demanded.

"Grape Drank."  
"What now?" Shawn asked.

"What? You don't know what Grape Drank is?" Triple H said disbelievingly. "What are you, like the whitest person of all time? How in God's name have you not heard of Grape Drank?!"

Rey somehow managed to stifle his laughter out on the porch. He had to stub his toe on purpose to keep the sound from escaping his lips. But it was worth it to keep up the silent treatment he was using on Dave Batista.

When his incessant chuckling died down Rey bit his lip and looked out over the fields before him. He looked for a long time and finally he saw a small owl bobbing along the ground on its feet. He watched it, fascinated. He didn't know why on earth an owl wasn't flying; it was like some sort of ground owl. But if it hardly ever flew then why did it bother to still have wings?! Nature confused him.

The owl seemed suddenly startled by movement somewhere in Rey's direction and skittered away into a little burrow that Rey couldn't quite spot the entrance for. He blinked disappointedly and turned away, knowing who had caused the owl to react like that.

Batista plopped his thick-muscled bulk onto the porch to Rey's right.

"What are you looking at?"

No answer.

"Rey?"

Still no answer.

Rey was looking to the left of him now, scanning the ground and trying to will another owl out of it to distract himself with. No such luck. He sighed silently.

"Rey, would it help if I said I was sorry?"

_You'd have to mean it first, you motherfucking bitch._

Rey glared out at the horizon.

Goddamn Batista scaring away all the goddamn cute little owls, now he didn't even have those to look at. Batista had already ruined everything else for Rey, now he had to go and ruin owl-watching.

"Rey…" Batista pleaded.

_I love you so much and now you're not ever going to speak to me again?! Speak, damn it! Please! I'll do anything! _Dave thought desperately.

He reached out his hand and laid it onto Rey's thigh, hoping that that was an intimate enough place that Rey couldn't ignore him and if he was lucky, might even see something sweet about the gesture.

"I don't have anything to say to you," Rey muttered finally, pushing Batista's hand off of him like it was toxic sludge. He turned around again.

In the brief time that Rey's pretty brown eyes were in sight, Batista flushed pale. Rey's soul was in his eyes. And right now they were on fire. Blazing like a forest fire that had gotten too big to control.

Rey stood and walked back inside. He didn't want to make amends just yet. He felt conflicted, and he wanted Dave to hurt just as badly.

THE ONE GROUP

Jeff Hardy and C.M. Punk

Rey and Batista

Chris Jericho, Edge and John Cena

Randy Orton, Triple H and HBK

They spent hours searching every last room of the house again. They went through every bedroom, closet, guest room, bathroom, and storage room. Nothing. No sign of the guys. They searched the hardest in the bedrooms where the missing wrestlers' things were.

Punk suggested that they take all of the stuff and move it into the living room. He suggested that the rest of them bring their things down there too.

Rey nodded firmly in agreement but didn't break his silence.

They all stayed together for every moment and were in Jeff's room packing up together.

It broke Batista's heart to see the look of pain on Rey's face as he carefully picked up Jeff's clothes and folded them, tucking them into Jeff's bag. Rey zipped it up and was rolling up Jeff's sleeping bag when the Hardy brother's teddy bear fell out of it. Rey opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it immediately, when he felt Dave's eyes on him.

Rey took the bear in his hands and just sat for second, feeling its ears.

They all just bit their lips to keep from crying. Triple H patted Rey's shoulder comfortingly and Rey looked up at him with sad eyes and didn't say anything, just took up the rest of Jeff's luggage and started following Shawn back to the living room.

They managed to transport all of the missing guys' things together. Then they went back into the other bedrooms and supervised Punk, Triple H, and Shawn packing up their things.

All that was left to move into the living room was Rey and Batista's luggage. They stood awkwardly there, all knowing what the task in mind was. Batista made the first steps towards the stairs, silently voting to go retrieve the stuff, but everyone else watched Rey for his reaction.

Rey didn't move; just kept his feet firmly planted on the floor. If he went into the room to get his things, then he and Batista would inadvertently bump into one another and have to talk again to ask each other where something was.

Rey kept his mouth in straight line and his face blank. But he voted his disapproval by not budging. And that overruled Batista's vote to go. No one was willing to leave Rey alone, especially since they'd all managed to stick together all day and that seemed to be working as a safe guard. It was an unspoken rule now to leave no man behind.

Rey stood still and was visibly thinking for a moment as he stared at the floor. When he picked his head back up again he seemed to have a destination in mind. He grabbed a flashlight and everyone else followed suit.

Rey walked right past Dave on the stairs without so much as looking at him. And he led the way up to the attic.

"We can only fit two guys up there safely because the space is so small and we don't want to collapse the floor," Punk said.

"So who's going to search the attic?"

They all looked at Punk, Shawn, and Rey, who were the lightest. They knew Rey wanted to look up there, and they were hoping that he'd have to speak in order to say who he wanted to come with him.

Rey raised his hand.

"Okay, Rey's going. Who do you want to come with you, Rey?"

Rey kept his mouth in a thin line and touched HBK's shoulder so that he turned to face the luchador. Rey held out his hand, palm up, and gestured it back and forth from him to Shawn a couple of times. He pointed up towards the attic.

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, I'll come with you, buddy."

Rey nodded and walked silently up the steps, Shawn close on his heels.

"God, he's as good as mute now," Triple H remarked, shaking his head disappointedly.

"I thought for sure he'd have spoken by now."

"It's amazing how much you can say without using words," C.M. Punk said philosophically. "Maybe Rey's taking cues from Sylvia."

Batista swallowed. "He hasn't been this angry with me in months; I don't know what to do for him."

"You need to apologize," Triple H said.

"Shh, I hear something," Punk whispered.

"What?" Triple H asked disbelievingly.

Punk put a finger to his lips.

They were all silent. Sure enough, Shawn Michaels was talking, albeit quietly, up above them. He was trying to coax Rey into conversing back.

"Rey, I've never seen you this ticked off about some stupid comment about your size or your wrestling style. Or your attitude even. I know Dave insulted all three of those things about you, but I thought you'd gotten over remarks like that years ago."

The three wrestlers below all strained to hear an answer.

But Rey didn't respond.

"Rey," Shawn Michaels continued. "Like I said, those insults were all hurtful to you, I get that. Trust me, I do. I'm small, too, remember?"

No answer.

"But there had to be something else that Batista did to make you this upset. What was it, Rey? Did Batista do or say anything else while Triple H and I weren't there to see?"

Rey must have nodded because Shawn sounded encouraged when he next spoke.

"There _was_ something! What was it? What did Batista do to you?"

Punk, and Triple H both sent Batista dirty looks before they strained to hear again.

They frowned as they heard a strange, implacable sound. It was a noise similar to someone undressing, or lifting up a tablecloth.

Batista remembered suddenly that Rey was wearing long sleeves today. He'd worn a t-shirt most days that they'd been here. Maybe he felt cold today.

But he must have been rolling up his sleeve to show Shawn Michaels his bruising.

Batista flushed in mixed fear and shame.

Shawn gasped and they heard his footsteps as he pattered closer to Rey.

"Oh, God, Rey, that's terrible, why didn't you tell me? God, I've been in abusive relationships before, trust me, I can tell you how to deal with these things! Did this happen yesterday?"

Rey must have nodded again.

"Why didn't you tell me, Rey?"

They were all quiet. There was no way to answer that question without using words. They all crossed their fingers that Rey didn't have a pen and paper hidden on his person up there that he could use to escape from speech.

They heard some awkward shuffling.

Rey's voice was very soft; utterly raw and vulnerable when it finally emerged.

"A-abusive? You think he's abusive? He didn't mean to. I don't think he meant to, Shawn."

There was a pause.

Shawn sighed sadly. "Okay, that's…that's do-able. That's easier to handle than if he hurt you on purpose. Actually, it's probably nothing, Rey. Batista just gets too attracted to you sometimes. You know how he is."

"Don't make excuses for him," Rey whispered fiercely. "You're telling me you think this is abusive behavior and then you just want me to ignore it? How the hell am I supposed to do that? I didn't think the bruise was a big deal, but from what you're telling me-"

Shawn shook his head. "I'm not saying this to make you feel like you're not abused. You know him better than me. You can tell when he means to inflict pain and when he doesn't. So be honest with me, Rey. Did he mean to grab your arm that hard?"

Rey was confused now.

"I…I don't know."

"Was he angry with you at the time?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I didn't follow him away from the basement stairs when he asked me to. I didn't mean it to spite him; I just wanted to find Jeff. Shawn, you can't tell anyone this."

"Tell anyone what, Rey?"

"That Jeff's afraid of the dark," Rey whispered.

Batista blinked. Oh, God. He had misconstrued the entire thing. Rey had stayed behind to look for Jeff Hardy at the stairs because Rey was the only one who Jeff had confided in that he was afraid of the dark! It wasn't because Rey was mad at Batista!

Batista wanted to kick himself.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he jump to conclusions like that?!

God, he needed to get back to his therapist so soon that it wasn't even funny.

"_Jeff Hardy_ is afraid of the dark?!" Shawn hissed in disbelief.

"Yes," Rey said. "I just wanted to find Jeff because I knew he'd be twice as scared down there as any of the other guys who were lost. Especially after Punk ran out with the flashlight and left him alone with no lighting down there," Rey explained worriedly.

Shawn sighed. "Oh, Rey…"

"I couldn't help it. I was worried about him. I didn't mean to make Dave mad. I didn't."

"I believe you, Rey. I know. I know you didn't mean to ruffle Batista's feathers."

Rey exhaled softly. "I…I guess it was good that I wasn't alone with him today. That I just avoided him. If he wanted to hurt me like you say-"

"Avoiding him was probably the best thing you could do in this situation," Shawn agreed.

Silence.

"So how does your arm feel? Does it hurt?"

"Only when I touch it. No, it's not that bad," Rey assured him.

"You're not just saying that to downplay Dave's violence, are you?"

"No. No. I've gotten way worse in the ring, before. You know that. This is nothing. It's just a bruise. It's not the marks themselves that scare me; it's that…well, I guess Dave lost his cool with me. He's never done that before."

Shawn sighed. "All right. All right."

A pause.

"Come here, give me a hug, buddy, you look like you need it," Shawn advised.

Rey obeyed and leaned over to squeeze Shawn, who patted his back comfortingly.

"From what you're telling me, I don't think that Dave meant to hurt you too bad, Rey. I really don't think that."

"Okay," Rey said quietly, a little relieved.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Rey said quietly, exhaling.

"All right. Ready to go back to the guys?" Shawn asked him.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Put your game face back on."

Rey sighed and for all intents and purposes swallowed his sweet voice again.

When the two wrestlers descended the attic steps Shawn Michaels was acting like nothing had happened and Rey's face was an unreadable mask once more.

He'd drained all emotion from his expressions. Batista blinked and realized that he shouldn't have mentioned to Rey earlier that he was easy to read. Because now he was making a very good effort not to be.

Nobody said anything to them, even though they wanted to comfort Rey about the bruise.

"Was uh…was anything up there?" Punk asked quickly, recovering surprisingly fast after overhearing that tormented conversation.

Rey shook his head blankly.

"No, not a thing. No signs, nothing, nada, zippo," Shawn confirmed.

Triple H sighed. "Do you want to try to look in the basement?"

They all thought about that for second. The guys had to be down there. There was nowhere else to look.

But it was getting dark again, believe it or not. Between Shawn and Rey talking, the time it had taken to search every room and the attic, the time it took to eat breakfast and lunch, and the time it had taken to move everyone and all of their possessions into the living room downstairs, it was almost nightfall.

"I don't know…maybe we should eat dinner first and then see how we feel."

Shawn's stomach growled loudly and Triple H and Punk laughed at him.

Rey tried to hide an almost imperceptibly small smile, but Dave saw it.


	13. A Thousand Apologies

**My apologies about how long it took to post chapter 12. ****Diathawwedevil****, I'm sorry!!! I was sick with a baaaad cough and I had oodles of homework…my apologies. I promise I'll update at least a chapter per week now. I love you guys who comment all the time, I promise I'm not going to abandon this story!! DON'T LEAVE!!! XO!! **

**Welcome to my little circle of commenting readers kochou-sensei, Kiharu Aroukii and Milady2222!!!! Thank you so much for your messages! Brirey, I'm so happy I clarified things for you with Chapter 12!! Shocky-Weirdomness, I hope this chapter right here makes you happy! SoldiersOfTheNight what do you think of how it's going with the story? You likey? Yes? No? Esha Napoleon, keep your steady comments coming! Please tell me if I need to improve on anything, peoples! Much love!  
**

Chapter 13: A Thousand Apologies

Day Five at the Haunted House

Rey ate dinner in silence and went out to sit on the porch again afterwards to watch the darkness roll in.

He blinked peacefully up into the sky.

Batista stood up quietly and walked out to him.

"Can I talk to you?" Dave asked gently as he stood in the doorway.

Rey appreciated that Batista was at least asking permission now.

He shrugged, but didn't turn around.

Batista sat down beside Rey again.

Neither spoke for a minute. Dave knew now to choose his words carefully.

"Do you like it out here?" he asked.

Rey blinked his big brown eyes at the landscape and nodded a little hesitantly.

Yes! A response!

Batista gathered his thoughts and his courage and waited another moment before talking further.

"Rey, I would like to apologize to you."

Rey's face fell and he looked at the ground, at his feet. It was a far more depressed gesture than his staring into the sky or the environment.

"Rey, you are anything but a coward. You have way better judgment than I do. What I meant to tell you is that you are way smarter and a way better strategist. You have the brains to not stay and try to duke it out with a kidnapping ghost. And you are a fantastic wrestler, and I know that it's just part of your style to be that quick. And you're naturally fast; it's nothing you should ever be ashamed of. I'm sorry I…I didn't mean to hint that I thought you were a coward. What I meant to say earlier is that you're faster than me. You're more flexible, too, and you know it."

Rey smiled subtly. The thought of big, beefy Batista trying to do gymnastics was pretty funny.

"You're quick on your feet, and you're so, so balanced. Hell, we found that out earlier when he managed to pull yourself out of that collapsing floor. If that were me, my ass would have plummeted right away. It would have looked like this."

Rey turned his head to watch Dave. Batista held up his hand vertically. "This is me."

"This is the floor," he said, holding his opposite hand flat. He put that hand perpendicular to the other.

He smacked his vertical hand against the edge of the flat hand and then hit his thigh with it.

Rey smiled broadly and stifled a laugh.

"I would have hit my head on the edge of that floor, been knocked out, and hit the basement floor in like a second flat," Dave explained, chuckling.

"So I'm sorry that I accidentally called you a coward," Batista apologized.

Rey nodded acceptingly.

"And I'm sorry that I said you were…that you're…that you're small," Batista managed to get out.

"You're not that small, Rey, you're-"

"Yes, I am," Rey admitted painfully.

Batista stared at him.

He was speaking now.

Rey continued.

"I am small. I know that. I don't need to be reminded of that, like it's something horrible. I'm not a serial killer; I'm just five foot six. Deal with it. You guys act like my size is some horrible thing like that either makes me someone you should never ever talk to, or like it's fucking cancer or something. I don't have a birth defect, I'm perfectly healthy, I'm not a raging psychopath, and so what on earth is wrong with being my height?"

Dave shrugged. He couldn't think of any reasons why size could possibly impair Rey.

The luchador sighed exasperatedly. "I've had to give that speech so many times, I've lost count. I think I probably already gave it to you once."

Batista chuckled. "You probably did."

"I don't understand Americans' obsession with size; nobody was this height-obsessed when I lived in Mexico," Rey said.

His height probably wasn't an issue in Asia, either, or anywhere else where people are normal sizes. In America people consider each other strange unless they have to duck under a seven-foot doorframe.

"Still. I'm sorry that I insulted your size. There's nothing wrong with your height or your weight. And if it is a flaw to be short, Rey, then you know what?"

"What?"

"That's the only physical flaw you have," Batista said honestly.

Rey blushed and looked away. "Oh, come on, I'm not…no, I'm not perfect."

Batista grinned. "We all disagree with you on that one."

Rey turned even redder. He secretly liked that compliment very much. So he didn't say anything to it. He swallowed. People thought he was really that handsome? Wow. Just…wow.

"And I'm sorry that I was on your case when I saw you worrying about Jeff and the other missing guys. You have a great heart, Rey. And I…I can't ever apologize enough to you for insulting your character," Batista said sadly.

Rey looked up at him. He shook his head. "I need to stop worrying so much. You're right about that, Dave. I know that's what you were trying to tell me."

Batista swallowed. "Everything I tried to say last night came out wrong."

Rey sighed. "Yes, it did."

Batista gazed pitifully at him.

"It happens to everybody," Rey stated wisely.

"You really think that it's your fault that they're lost, don't you?" Batista inquired suddenly. Something about Rey's expression made him ask that question.

"Why wouldn't it be? I spend my whole life picking up after you clowns," Rey said half-jokingly, trying to be funny and cheer them both up. "You guys hardly know how to tie your shoes without me."

"That's true," Batista admitted, smiling a little.

Rey chuckled.

They stared out at the landscape together for a minute.

"Everything looks blue out here in the dark," Batista noted deeply.

Rey smiled. "Yeah."

Unconsciously or subconsciously, to remind himself and maybe Dave too that it was there, Rey reached up and laid his fingers over the bruise on his right arm.

He swallowed mournfully.

Batista wished to God that he could just reach over and wipe off those marks. Or squeeze it again and have the opposite effect than the first time. He had inflicted so much pain and confusion on Rey with that one touch.

"Do you know what my favorite part about you is besides your heart, Rey?" Batista asked, his voice full of melancholy and regret.

Rey shook his head.

"Your skin," Batista confessed.

Rey looked up at him. He could see that Dave was telling the truth.

Batista had tears in his eyes. "I love your skin, Rey; I would never put a scratch on it. I was just trying to get you to safety, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know how strong I was gripping you, I really didn't. I would never, ever touch you that way on purpose. I need help and I need to see Dr. Jimenez again when I get back home. I don't know why I gripped you that hard."

Rey blinked at him for a moment.

He looked at the floor, his eyes moving slightly in thought.

And it occurred to him that Shawn might have been wrong and that maybe Dave wasn't abusive.

_He wouldn't hurt you. You know that. _

_Yeah. Besides, even if he would you would have found that out by now. He would have been rougher with you by now. _

_And…he may not think about the others. He may never care about them. But…he cares about you. Isn't there something to be said for that? Isn't he nice, at least to you? _

He gazed back up at Dave again. "You like my skin?"

Dave smiled sadly. "Yeah."

Rey returned his smile finally.

And that quiet gesture was so beautiful to Dave Batista; it was like music, it was like the first rays of sunlight peeking through a storm cloud.

"Thank you," Rey said.

Batista nearly started crying.

He sniffed and laughed, wiping his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Rey, you don't say a word to me all day and then you go and say something like that."

Rey grinned. "Can't help it. I think that it's nice that you like my skin."

Batista gave a long exhale, trying to keep his heart from fluttering out of his chest.

Rey laughed. "Easy, tiger. I'm not proposing to you or anything."

Batista laughed, too. "Wait a minute, who would be the husband in that situation?"

They both paused and funny looks crossed their faces.

Rey exploded into hysterical laughter. "Oh, God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually don't know…"

Batista had trouble stopping his own laughter at Rey's response. "Well, I'm the more controlling one obviously…" he admitted, gasping for air.

"Yeah, but _I'm_ the one who knows what he's doing the majority of the time!" Rey argued between breaths.

"So, which is that, the husband, or the wife?" Batista asked.

They exploded again.

Rey laughed even harder a moment later.

"Oh, Jesus, look, we just scared off another owl…" he pointed out.

Batista grinned when he saw the little fluffy bird high-tail it out of there and run as far away as it could from the two crazy humans it saw on the porch.

After their laughter had died down, Rey looked at Batista and exhaled.

"Dave."

"Yeah, Rey?"

"Do you miss them?"

Batista looked deeply at the luchador. "Of course I do, Rey."  
Rey cocked his head to the side a little, as if questioning this.

He shook his head and thought better of whatever he was going to say.

Batista swallowed. "Rey, it's…it's not that I hate them. I just-"

"You do hate them, Dave," Rey said quietly.

He looked up at the Animal, his mouth in a straight line and his eyes still and determined.

"Don't you?"

Batista didn't know what to say. "I…Rey, no, I…" he contradicted lamely.

Rey dropped his eyes. "I know you don't get along with many of the guys. I know that. But for you to be focusing so much on me when they could be…"

He shook his head again and crossed himself.

Batista reached out and set his hand on the luchador's shoulder, smoothing his fingers warmly over the collarbone.

Rey sniffed.

"Rey-Rey…I'm worried about you. I'm not focusing on them, I admit that. But it's not because I don't like them or don't hope they're okay. Of course I hope they're okay. I wouldn't want my worst enemies to die in a house like this."

Rey looked up at Batista with his huge dark eyes. He snatched Batista's cheeks into his hands and gazed at him urgently.

"Dave, look at me."

Batista blinked a couple of times, taken by surprise. "I am, Rey."

Rey swallowed. "Do you really think I was mad at you about all of that stuff you accidentally said? You know me. Do you really think that was it?"

Batista searched his eyes and shook his head. "No."

"What was it, then?"

Batista wanted to break Rey's gaze but he couldn't bring himself to. That would hurt the luchador, and he never wanted to hurt Rey.

"You're mad at me because you wish that I liked them as much as you."  
Rey blinked. That hadn't been the answer he'd expected, but it was true.

He loosened his fingers and was about to relinquish Batista when the larger man grabbed onto him and steadied his hands where they were against the heavyweight's face.

"Rey…"

Now it was the luchador who couldn't break the gaze. "What?"

"I can't help it. I can't help but think about you all the time. You're the only one of all the guys here who's ever cared about me."  
"Dave, that's not true, they-"

"Rey, you may think I hate them. But I don't hate them any more than they hate me."  
Rey's lips parted in surprise. His eyes were so dark and pretty.

Batista squeezed his fingers. "I care about you. And so I focus on you. I'm sorry if that upsets you."

Rey shook his head.

He couldn't be angry at Batista for loving him. He ached for his friend that he didn't share Dave's feelings. He wouldn't deny Batista the right to pine after him if that was all he had.

"I'm sorry too, Dave. For not speaking to you…I'm sorry…"

Batista smiled softly.

"It's okay. You don't see the guys the same way I do. The same way they are to me."

Rey's eyes were so big and full of pity, his mouth strained with words he didn't know how to say. He rubbed Batista's cheekbones with his thumbs.

Batista bent forward and set his lips against Rey's forehead, still holding his hands against the sides of his face.

Rey leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.

He and Eddie used to kiss each other on the cheek whenever they saw each other. Batista remembered he raised his eyebrow at Eddie the first time he saw him kissing Rey and the tiny luchador had beamed and wandered off.

Eddie had grinned and said with his jester-like smile, "Can you blame me? Isn't he the cutest thing?"

Batista's eyes had widened in shock and Eddie had howled with laughter.

"Just kidding, esse! Kissing doesn't mean that for me and Rey-Rey! It's a Mexican thing. We like to show love to friends."

Batista had nodded a little awkwardly. "Jesus, way to nearly give me a heart attack."

And Eddie had given that mischievous, wise smile.

Now Batista wondered if Eddie would have understood his infatuation with the little guy. Or if he even foresaw it. Eddie had adored Rey and used to hug him for no good reason. Rey was just as physical, if not more so.

And the closer Batista had gotten to Rey the easier it became for him to accept the luchador's big hugs and his affectionate nature.

And he became like Eddie, wrapping his arms around the masked wrestler often and scooping him up. Rey would laugh brilliantly and muss up Batista's hair.

He was so handsome and soft and strong, Batista couldn't resist him. And he started to kiss him like Eddie did.

The luchador leaned into Dave's chest, breaking their hold on each other only to establish another one. And he bear-hugged the life out of Dave. Rey used hugs to express every feeling on the planet, everything from apologies to "you're welcome" to "thank you" to love and sorrow and joy and friendship.

Right now was his "I forgive you" hug and it was accompanied by the words.

Batista couldn't be happier.

"And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Dave," Rey added softly.

"No, Rey-Rey. No. I'm all right."  
Rey looked up at him. "The guys…what types of things do they do to you?"

Batista shrugged. "It's not a big deal, man. It's not."  
Rey didn't believe him. "Is it stupid rumors or something?"

Batista shrugged. "It doesn't bother me much, Rey-Rey."  
Rey straightened up and set his hands on his hips with that authoritative father look he had sometimes. He put it on once when Dominik was following him around backstage and he thought his son was ogling the Divas a bit too much.

He'd narrowed his eyes and delivered a startlingly deadpanned line.

"Pretend your mother's here with us."

_That_ had made Dominik start looking in the girls' eyes instead of elsewhere.

Rey had that same stern look plastered on his face now.

"Dave, tell me what the hell people are saying to you."

Batista sighed. "Rey, it's not what they're saying. It's…I don't know. It's hard to explain. They don't talk to me when you're not in the room. It's tense and they do this death-glare thing…"

Rey bit his lip.

He dropped his arms to his sides.

He wondered if the guys were all jealous of Dave because they perceived Batista to be his favorite. He thought that might be it. But part of it was also Batista's chronic bad attitude when Rey was any further than two feet away from his friend.

Rey thought that might be more likely of a reason for them to hate him.

And he'd tried every trick in the book to try to convince Batista to be friendlier towards all the other guys. Nothing had worked. Batista had too bad of a temper and too much pride to care what other people thought of him.

It wouldn't do any good for Rey to tell him to apologize for whatever he'd done wrong or accept anyone else's apology or even to compromise and forgive just one of the guys. Dave would try, but between his pigheadedness and the others' resentment for him, the heavyweight never could work it out between him and the others.

But Rey had another solution in mind since negotiating wasn't working for Dave.

He clenched his fists and looked determinedly up at Batista. "Leave the room with me."

Batista's eyes widened. "What?"

"When I go out of the locker room, you go. Then people aren't going to start snickering at you or whatever. Leave the room with me. Stick with me."

Rey smiled mischievously and cocked his head to the side. "I'll protect you."

Batista chuckled. "Oh, you'll save me?"

Rey grinned. "That's right."

"Carry me to safety?"

Rey laughed. "You know I can't manage that."

Batista chuckled.

Rey stood up. He held out his hand. "But maybe I can pull you up."

Batista shook his head. "Naw, man. I'd tear your arm off by accident."  
Rey rolled his eyes playfully. "I doubt that."

Batista stood up on his own and gave Rey an affectionate squeeze.

"Are you ready to go back in and face the guys if I stay with you?" the smaller man asked.

Batista nodded and chuckled. "My knight in shining armor."

Rey grinned. "You bet your ass."

The two friends returned inside and Shawn smiled at Rey, who was not only talking now, but looked light as a feather. Batista looked as though a huge weight had been lifted off his chest as well.

"I'm glad you two made up," Punk said honestly as the pair sat down.

Rey beamed at him. "Me too."

Triple H had figured out how to make a fire in the fireplace and it was dancing its glorious lights along the walls.

"I was gonna have to chuck you in there if you hadn't apologized," the dirty blonde wrestler admitted to Batista.

Rey blinked at him, his eyes wide. "_Dios_, that would have been a bit much, don't you think?"

Triple H shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Batista laughed it off. "I don't blame you, man; I was being a dick earlier."

Rey smiled.

He thought that was a very down-to-earth thing to say, and it made him further doubt Shawn's theory that Batista could be dangerous to him.

Rey didn't tell anyone because they were all starting to bed down for the night, but at 11:30 he made the decision to try to meet Sylvia again tonight at their usual time. The previous night he thought she'd disappeared.

Whether he was thinking of getting his pajamas on or thinking of grabbing another flashlight or some fresh batteries out of his economy-sized pack of them, he didn't remember later.

All he remembered was walking into the bedroom he had shared with Dave for the week, and was met with the terrifying realization that it had once been a murder scene. Sylvia's body was lying on the floor in a pool of blood and Rey's brain ceased to function correctly.

He bolted from the house.


	14. Panic

Chapter 14: Panic

Day Six at the Haunted House (Midnight)

If Batista had blinked he would have missed Rey absolutely tearing out of the front door into the night, into the thick, drenching rain. Batista ran after him.

Rey stopped out in the middle of the yard, panting, and clutching at his chest, which was on fire. He was shuddering and hardly knew where he was. He didn't register that it was pouring down rain and it being fall in Massachusetts, that that rain was ice-cold and causing his body temperature to drop dangerously low too rapidly.

"REY!!"

Rey started as Batista came up behind him and grabbed his arms.

"No! Please, Dave no! I can't go back in there! I can't! Let me go!" Rey screamed and flailed around, trying to escape Dave's grasp.

He was hysterical and might have been crying; Dave couldn't tell because Rey's face was soaked in rain.

"Rey! Come on! You have to come back! You'll freeze to death out here!"

"NO! No, no, no…" Rey sobbed and struggled, But Dave kicked his knees out from under him and pulled him back from behind again.

Rey kicked a few times like a fish being reeled in and using its last spurts of energy to fight off the fisherman, but it was no use.

Dave dragged Rey backwards through the grass and up onto the porch.

"Jesus, man, you're drenched…" Dave said, reaching out to touch Rey's cheek to feel what his temperature might be, but Rey pulled away.

He hid his face in his hands and kept shaking. "Don't take me back in there, don't take me back in there, I can't-I-I-"

"Shhh," Dave said quietly, trying to soothe his friend. He touched Rey's back through his soaked shirt. Rey felt very cold.

"Rey, we have to take you in out of the weather," Batista said urgently.

"No, I'm better off out here, I'm better, I'm fine, Dave, don't-"

"Rey," Batista said firmly. He'd have to try to explain this as calmly as possible.

"You're hysterical. You don't know what you're talking about right now. You're freezing, and if we don't get you warm soon you could get sick or worse."

"Let me stay out here, then, just give me some sheets or something, I'll be fine, I just can't go inside, Dave, I won't," Rey said, talking a mile a minute. His teeth started chattering and an enormous shiver went through his entire body.

Rey curled up suddenly and held his knees.

Batista touched his friend's shoulder.

"Rey, see? You're cold."

"No, I'm not. Really, I'm not…"

"Rey, there's nowhere else to go. If there was another house or another building anywhere out here I would take you there. But there isn't. So you have to come back inside."

"I can't…" Rey said, shaking. "I can't…"

"I'll carry you. Come here."

"No."

"Rey, stop being such a-" Dave shook his head and exhaled. "Rey. I'm taking you inside, and that's final."

Rey tried to pull away as Dave set his hand against Rey's side, but before he could put up a struggle; Dave had lifted him over his shoulder and was carrying him in like a sack of potatoes.

"I swear, I've met mules less stubborn than you," Dave muttered.

Dave took Rey into the living room. "Don't be surprised, Rey, but everyone's in here. Is that okay? Can you handle that?" Dave asked him and shifted Rey so that he was holding him at the waist with Rey's feet just above the floor.

Rey nodded shakily.

Batista set him onto his feet.

"Okay. All the guys are right here for you. Right here."

Rey turned around slowly as Batista braced him at the shoulders in case he was too faint to stand on his own.

He was soaking wet and everyone's eyes shone sadly at him in the dim light. Rey looked like a poor, shivering little puppy dragged in from a storm.

He looked around the room and registered everyone's presence dully. Then he looked at the floor. His knees shook.

"Okay, easy Rey, easy. Let's sit you down here," Dave said, holding onto Rey again and leading him carefully closer to the fireplace.

He helped the smaller man sit down.

"There we go. Is that better?"

He touched Rey's cheek to try to get him to look at him. He was afraid that if Rey didn't meet his eyes then he'd lose him into the abyss of fear and cold.

"Rey?" Batista said softly.

Rey turned into his friend's touch.

"You're wet, Dave…" Rey said slowly, as though he were finally starting to view his surroundings.

Dave smiled sadly. "You are too, buddy, you just don't know it."

"I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get you some fresh clothes, okay? Will you be all right?"

Rey nodded faintly.

"Can one of you guys sit next to him? He's pretty out of it right now, I wouldn't want him to wander off," Dave whispered to the guys.

"Yeah, I'll sit with him," Punk volunteered.

"You okay, Rey?" C.M. Punk asked when he plopped down.

Rey didn't respond, he just stared into the fire and kept shivering.

Punk patted his dampened thigh sadly. "That's okay. You don't have to talk. It's okay."

Dave came back a moment later with his shirt off and a pair of sweatpants on, carrying a pair of blankets and some of Rey's clothes in his arms.

"Okay, here's the deal. You might get hypothermia if you keep your clothes on. And every movie I've ever seen with people nearly freezing to death tells me two things; one is take off your cold, wet clothes and the other is heat up your naked body next to somebody else's naked body."

"Hot damn, I hit the jackpot today, boy…" Shawn murmured, chuckling giddily to himself.

Everyone else looked daggers at him.

Batista whipped out the blankets.

"Dave…"

Batista looked up at him. "What is it, Rey?"

"Now isn't the time to try to seduce me…" Rey said sleepily.

Dave snorted. "Oh, get over yourself. You'll get hypothermia if you don't warm up soon. And the only way to do that is for you to get naked."

Rey shook his head. "Just give me the clothes."

"You can have this blanket, Rey, I won't look at you," Dave said, holding out the blanket reluctantly.

Rey shook his head again and didn't take the blanket.

"I'm not that desperate that I want to see your ass frozen solid in icicle form, okay? That's not my thing. I'd rather see you _healthy_ and naked. How's that for honesty?"

Rey took the blanket reluctantly and laid it onto the ground next to him as he unbuttoned his shirt. The material was sticking to his skin and it was difficult to peel it off of his arms as he slipped it away from his back.

His pectoral muscles stretched slightly as he yanked the sleeves away from his wrists and tossed the shirt down beside him.

Everyone pretended they weren't looking as Rey pulled off his white tank top undershirt.

Rey's skin looked like polished copper where the light of the fire hit it and it shone back.

He sighed and bent his knees up to pull off his shoes. The laces were too wet to untie them so he had to slip them off as they were.

Dave swallowed at the sight of Rey slipping his jeans off with some difficulty. His underwear clung stubbornly to his waist and Dave wanted to swear at it for staying put, but it did slip down slightly enough to showcase the curves on the inner sides of Rey's lower stomach. Beautiful little cuts in his body that revealed his immaculate physical condition. His belly button lay tight against his stomach, like the muscles were holding it upright, they were so rock hard.

Dave almost had to look away for a second when he saw that Rey's boxers were white and nearly see-through from being so wet. But he couldn't bring himself to.

Rey didn't notice and Dave was secretly very, very grateful for it.

It was only visible for a second before Rey covered himself from the waist down with the blanket. He shifted around a little awkwardly for a second and slipped off his underwear from underneath it. He tossed the boxers atop the pile of the rest of his soaked garments.

He looked up at Dave. "Happy, now?"

Dave blushed and swallowed. "Y-yeah."

He sat down, his back to the fire; same as Rey, just a pace away from him.

"Is that it?" Rey asked, a little uncomfortable about only being covered by a blanket.

"No, you need body heat."

"I _have_ body heat," Rey said stubbornly.

"Somebody else's body heat, Rey," Dave explained carefully.

Rey looked didn't meet his eyes, a slight blush coming to his cheeks. "Let's just skip that part."

He was still shivering, although not as severely now that he had the fire at his back and he was out of the drenched clothes.

"Rey, that's how you get warm. You have to come over here."

Rey didn't answer and just looked at the floor. Reluctantly, he scooted a little closer towards the Animal.

Dave rolled his eyes. This would take too long for Rey to inch over and he had very little patience. Rey was an arm's length away from him now.

Dave snatched Rey up and yanked him into his chest so quickly that the blanket shifted and Rey's bare thigh was against Batista as his head bumped into his friend's strong, thick chest. Rey wanted to wrap the blanket around his waist to keep his nakedness from touching Dave, but he was too close now, it would be too awkward.

"Ah…!" The sound escaped Rey's lips, pure surprise. He didn't know what to do, and briefly considered breaking away from Dave but then a wave of heat shook through him. Dave's chest was bleeding heat into Rey's body. He shivered in one huge quake from head to toes and nearly passed out as the temperature change overwhelmed him. He shuddered again and rested his temple above Dave's heart, his eyelids drooping blearily. Rey didn't feel Dave's pulse skip a beat as he laid his head there and closed his eyes peacefully.

He must have been very cold after all for Dave to feel so warm like this.

"Is that better?" Dave asked quietly.

Rey nodded silently, his eyes closed.

Rey's chest was against his side and his breathing felt good and regular. Batista ran his hand along Rey's back. He was almost dry now, but he still felt chilled.

Rey didn't move and didn't flinch against his touch.

Dave allowed himself a small smile and almost slipped; he almost let his lips get too close to Rey's forehead. He wanted so badly to kiss him. Rey felt so soft, and so beautifully vulnerable at this moment that it took all of Batista's willpower for him to pull back and lead his lips away from Rey.

He rubbed Rey's shoulder blades a little regretfully.

Why couldn't Rey return his affections? Even once, even just this once, that's all he wanted, just one time.

He gulped. But he knew that Rey wouldn't give in. Rey wasn't attracted to him even remotely in the same way. And if he indulged his friend's desires and kissed him or went further than that then Dave would only ever want more.

It was best not to ever start anything in the first place.

"Rey…what did you see?" Shawn questioned.

Rey started and the sudden movement surprised Dave.

Rey seemed suddenly scared again.

Batista glared back at Shawn. "He's had enough for tonight, leave him alone."

Rey shook his head. "No, I…I should tell them," he said, swallowing.

His heartbeat changed; it went faster and Dave didn't like that. Rey had seemed so serene just seconds ago, almost like he could just drift asleep at any moment. Now he seemed frightened; back on edge, not nearly as trusting, like he would jump at shadows again.

"I-I saw Sylvia," Rey began carefully, trying to steady himself. Dave hugged him tighter to his body to comfort him but Rey hardly seemed to feel it. He stated shaking more and more.

"She's dead now," Rey said quietly.

"Rey, she was always dead, she's a ghost, remember?" Triple H reminded him gently.

"You didn't start thinking she was alive, did you?" Shawn asked.

Rey shook his head. "I don't know what I thought. I thought I could save her, I thought she was still alive, but I…" Rey broke away from Dave and hid his face in his hands.

"I'm such a fucking coward, I just ran. I just had to leave this house. I can't stand this place, I can't…" he sobbed.

Dave dragged himself closer to Rey, very careful not to sneak up on him.

Rey looked up for just a second and saw Batista there and he just threw himself into the larger man's chest, he didn't care, he was just so saddened and afraid. He cried and gasped for air and tried to control himself, but all he could do was hide his face and reach his hands up against Dave's chest; they were clutched into tight fists and locked against either side of his face as though he were guarding himself.

He buried his face into Dave and Batista was grateful to have his friend return to his arms, but not in this condition. He wrapped his arms around Rey and rocked him protectively as Rey sobbed.

_Damn these other guys, I can't even get one quiet moment alone with Rey that they won't ruin by upsetting him. _Dave thought angrily.

He stroked Rey's back. "Shh, you're all right. You'll be all right," he said softly.

Rey choked and caught his breath after a minute. He didn't pull away from Dave this time as he began to speak again, and Dave was reassured by that. Maybe he was able to be a comfort to Rey.

"I saw Sylvia's murder," Rey mumbled, turning around, but still staying very close to Dave, as though he couldn't sit up on his own. "She…I…" Rey shook his head. Everything was scrambling inside his mind and he couldn't describe it into a coherent sentence.

"Just start at the beginning, Rey. Where did you see Sylvia?" Punk advised gently.

Rey nodded. "I walked into the…the bedroom that Dave and I have been sleeping in at night. I forget why I was in there; I think I went to get something."

He flushed to the point where his caramel skin was an entire spectrum whiter.

He looked so faint just then that Batista braced him.

"Rey?"

"She was…she was on the floor…" Rey whispered. "For a second I just forgot she was already dead, she's such a sweet little thing, and I didn't want her to be hurt. I just thought of Aalyah, and, oh, God, if I saw my baby girl lying on the floor like that, I don't know what I'd do…" Rey cried.

Dave rubbed his back. "It's okay, Rey. Aalyah's safe. She's fine. She and Dominik and Angie are all safe, don't worry."

Rey nodded and swallowed his tears for another second. "I just…I knelt down on the floor next to her, next to Sylvia, and she was so still, and she's so small, and there was this pool of blood by her head, I was just worried because there was no way someone so small could bleed that much and still survive it. I forgot she was dead. I just forgot…and I held her, I tried to wake her, and I saw that it wasn't the back of her head that was bleeding, it was her mouth. She…her tongue was gone. It was on the floor a little ways away from her, and that scared me so bad, but I stayed, all I wanted her to do was open her eyes at me one last time. She didn't, but I felt her cough and try to squeeze my hand. I gave it to her, I was just glad she was alive. For one last second she was alive. But I felt…odd, like someone else was in the room, and I looked up and I saw this guy…this huge guy…" Rey was shuddering horribly now. Dave tried to steady him so he didn't hurt himself, he was shaking so badly.

"It must have been her father. Somehow I just knew when I saw him that it was her father. He was the one that cut out her tongue, I could tell because he had a knife in his hand and it was covered in her blood, just covered. And he leered down at me and I froze. And I…he had an axe, and I didn't want to leave Sylvia there, but I couldn't move, my legs wouldn't move." Rey squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the next image.

"Rey, what happened?" Shawn asked urgently.

Batista glared at him again.

"You're upsetting him!" Batista accused. He turned back to Rey, "We should just stop. Rey, you don't have to say what happened next, it's all right."

Rey shook his head profoundly.

"No, no, I owe it to her. She was always so nice to me, she was just a sweet little girl…someone needs to know how she died."

He took another breath.

"He…I couldn't move. It was like I wasn't there. It was like it happened so long ago and I realized then how many years ago this murder must have happened and that the Sylvia I knew was already dead. There was nothing I could do to stop him. She was still in my lap, but I never felt her. He slit her throat."

Tears fell out of Rey's eyes.

"He nearly took her head off and there was blood everywhere. She was shaking as her soul left her body, but I never felt her tremors. I almost wish I had. She was all alone when it happened; if someone had been there for her she would have felt so much better…"

Rey inhaled raggedly.

"But then her body was gone and it was just her father. I looked up and he was coming after me with that fucking axe." Rey grabbed at his chest like he couldn't breathe.

"Easy, Rey, easy," Batista said, bracing him.

"It…it stopped being like the murder. Her father turned into the way that Sylvia always appears to us. To me. Like he could see me. Like he wasn't stuck in the past. Like he could really see where I was. And like he could touch me."

Rey shut his eyes for a moment and opened them so slowly.

"I feel like I'm…like I'm covered in her blood, I never felt it, it was so wrong, I was holding her right there and I never felt her blood touch my skin. I couldn't feel the rain, either, I just went numb. I went and took off. I wanted to leave here…"

Batista set his hand on Rey's shoulder blade warmly.

"I just don't understand how…how could someone do that to their own daughter?" Rey asked, choking on his own voice.


	15. Screaming

Chapter 15: Screaming

Day Six at the Haunted House

Dave hugged Rey close to him as Rey finished the story, rubbing his back and glaring at Shawn.

"_Satisfied_? You nearly made him leap out of his skin again. Is that good enough for you?!"

Shawn nodded silently, ashamed of making Rey relive such gruesome events.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," Batista said bitterly and looked down at Rey, who suddenly seemed very tired, and very fragile, leaning limply up against his friend's chest.

"Rey, I never even heard you scream, buddy, what happened? How did you get outside so quickly?"

"I bolted," Rey said simply, shaking.

Batista frowned in thought. "But I never heard you upstairs when you must have seen it happen. I saw you go up there, but I didn't hear you at all."

Rey shook his head. "I don't scream."

Batista's eyes widened. "_What_?"

Rey shrugged.

Triple H shook his head, too impressed for words. "You win the cajones contest there, Rey. Whoo boy…seeing _that_ shit and not screaming…count me out."

Shawn stared at the luchador. "Are you serious?"

Rey blinked. "What? What's the big deal? Some people don't scream, it's like a…"

Rey frowned. "Rareza… excentricidad…No sé decir esto," he muttered to himself. The last part meant "I don't know how to say this."

Batista raised his eyebrow at Rey's translation problem, waiting for it to work itself out.

Rey perked up. "A quirk. It's a quirk I have. Some people don't ever hum songs. I don't scream."

"Not at scary movies? Nothing? Nothing makes you scream?" Shawn pressed.

Rey shrugged again.

Batista was in awe. "Wait, now that you say that, I think I remember watching The Ring with you and you didn't scream. You're right, you jump and flinch and all that other stuff, but I've never heard you scream."

Rey gave a harrowed sigh. "Well, breaking the fourth wall is not that scary, Dave, sorry. I don't think so, anyway."

Shawn shrugged. "Maybe he's just got a bad concept of his in-ring persona and he doesn't know how to break the fourth wall himself. Maybe he can't break character because he's pulling a Tom Cruise and playing himself as his in-ring persona."

"I am _not_ pulling a Tom Cruise you bitchy old pervert! Shut the fuck up!" Batista shot back.

"Sorry, should I…do that…?" Rey asked, embarrassed. "Should I scream? Is that creepy that I don't, or…?"

Triple H shook his head. "Oh, no. definitely not, Rey. We're not knocking your uh…"

"Quirk," Punk suggested.

"Yeah," Triple H continued. "We're not knocking your quirk. We're actually jealous."

Punk eyed Batista. "You look like you wouldn't be the type to scream."

Batista dropped his eyes. "Well, I do. I wish I didn't."

Rey smiled gratefully at the comment.

"Rey?" Triple H asked to confirm.

Rey thought about it. "What was that movie with the birds attacking that lady? I thought it was weird, but Dave was scared of pigeons for like a month after that. What was that called?"

"'The Birds'," Batista admitted, shuddering. "Ugh."

"Yeah, sorry to tell you, but you screamed really loud at one part of that," Rey confessed.

Batista shook his head. "Oh, I'll own up to that. Birds are freaky little fuckers when they work together to _murder people_, but evidently you didn't think so."

"It was weird and disturbing, I don't know if it was scary," Rey argued tiredly.

He shivered and slumped against his friend again.

"Uh…my body…feels…sore…" Rey murmured. Dave hugged him and would have hoisted the blanket up around his shoulders but it was literally a security blanket to Rey right now. It was the only thing covering his naked lap and as tempting as it was to bypass it, Dave had to respect the security it represented to Rey.

He looked down at the little guy's lap and swallowed hard.

Rey had been shifted so close to him so fast that the blanket had slipped down. Rey was almost visible. Batista's mouth watered. He wished he could slip the blanket down just half an inch further.

He knew Rey must have been beautiful. So strong and beautiful…

He shook himself.

"Are you all right, Rey?"

A tear streaked down Rey's cheek and he shook his head. "He's going to find me. Sylvia's father is going to find me. He'll kill me, Dave, he will…"

Dave's eyes flashed fiercely. "No he won't. I'm not leaving you alone. I'll stay with you all night. If you need to eat or drink or go to the bathroom, I'll stay with you. He won't get to you."

Rey gulped and hesitantly reached up his hand and spread his palm over Dave's chest, hugging him. "You really think you can keep a seven foot tall axe-carrying psychopath away from me?" he asked doubtfully.

Batista snorted. "The only big, scary guy allowed around you is _me_, you got that?"

Rey looked up at him and smiled faintly. "Got it."

Batista patted Rey's back a little possessively like he was a bear defending its mate.

"Rey," Punk began carefully. "I think that the haunting you saw, the murder scene, was a residual haunting."

Rey blinked at him. "You mean there's more than one type?"

Punk nodded.

"Jesus, Punk where do you get all these fun facts?" Triple H demanded.

"I watch TV and actually pay attention to it," Punk said dryly.

Triple H was the type of person whose mind turned to mush when he was watching TV. Or else he'd become narcoleptic and fall asleep in front of it, regardless of the time of day.

Rey smiled a little. It gave him a small sense of normalcy to see all the guys arguing again.

"Anyway, on Ghost Hunters they say that there are three basic types of hauntings. The first is an intelligent haunting. This is like how you usually meet Sylvia's ghost. She talks to you and interacts with you directly. She can see you and hear you and be affected by present events even though she died so long ago. She has a human personality."

Rey nodded. "And I could touch her. It felt like dry ice to touch her, so I didn't try to more than once or twice, but that's what she felt like."

Punk's pupils dilated slightly, always fascinated by that. He shook himself out of the reverie and kept going with the explanations. "Well, yeah, so Sylvia is usually an intelligent haunting. The second type is what it sounds like you saw tonight. A residual haunting."

Rey tensed up.

"That means that the ghosts can't interact with you. They're stuck in the past and they're just replaying an event before you. You can't affect its outcome. A lot of times people see murder scenes because the murder is why the ghosts refuse to rest in peace. And they want to tell someone what happened to them. So they keep replaying it until they can be put to rest. You saw Sylvia's murder because that's why she's haunting this house."

"But you said they can't interact with me when it's a residual haunting. How do you explain when Sylvia held my hand?"

Punk shrugged. "Maybe she briefly came back into the present and recognized you. There are some cases where ghosts briefly break from the reenactment to recognize the living."

Rey shuddered. "But I couldn't feel her except for when she squeezed my hand. So maybe it was residual..."

He looked back up at Punk. "And her father? What type of haunting would her father's ghost be considered as?"

"It could be the third type; demonic. It's where the ghost can interact with you and is hostile. Sometimes it's human and sometimes it's inhuman, but it has an ill will. It tries to hurt people."

"Puede a dios nos protégé," Rey whispered and swallowed, thinking.

"Jesus Cristo, this house has all three?" he asked disbelievingly. He shook his head. "God, no wonder they couldn't tear this building down. Her father must be the one who pushes people down the stairs whenever they try it."

Batista nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"But that means- the stair accidents and the fact that he tried to come after me- that means that he's haunting this place, too! He's in here somewhere!" Rey hissed. And then his eyes widened in realization.

"It wasn't just a one-time thing! He's _been_ here this whole time!"

Rey scrambled, panicked.

Batista gripped onto Rey, sensing the luchador would take off again.

He pressed his weight down as gently as he could on the smaller man's shoulders, immobilizing him. But Rey shook and instinctively strained, trying to break free.

"Settle," Dave said bracingly, not wanting to crush the little guy.

"Settle down."

Rey caught his breath after a moment and Batista rubbed his collarbone with his thumbs.

Rey shut his eyes and came back to himself. "Sorry. Sorry, Dave," he said quietly, feeling faint. He hardly knew why he'd tried to move again, but he was glad Dave was there to stop him.

"I…just scared, I think. Sorry."

Batista nodded. "Don't be sorry. It's okay. I understand."

Rey looked back at his friend, his eyes wide in spite of himself, in spite of his exhaustion. They looked like full moons made of dark chocolate brown. He looked so pretty and so afraid at the same time that Batista couldn't help but pity him.

"You look like a deer in the headlights, buddy," Dave murmured.

There was a pause.

And he flushed, thinking that he shouldn't have let that slip out because it might have sounded too romantic.

But Rey smiled. "I like deer."

Batista brightened, grinned, and chuckled. "That's so like you to say that. Always the optimist, hunh?"

Rey gave an airy chuckle. "It doesn't hurt to be."

Batista patted his shoulder and gave him a half-hug.

Rey looked down at himself suddenly and pulled up the blanket around his waist securely. "God, you nearly let me stand up and flash everybody, there. What was I thinking?"

Batista laughed. "Why do you think I made you sit down so quickly?"

Rey shook his head and sighed at himself.

Batista smiled at Rey's modesty and his eye-rolling that he would've been the cause of his own embarrassment.

Dave turned his eyes reluctantly away from Rey and looked at Punk.

"But, uh what about the-"

Punk put a finger to his lips; shaking his head and making his jet black hair shake and fall back against his neck. "Don't talk about him."

Punk whipped his gaze toward the luchador, and Rey blinked. "And don't think about him, Rey. I know it's hard, because he scared you pretty badly, but you can't think about him. Hostile ghosts have to be summoned or disturbed by people. If you think of him then you might lead him to you."  
Rey's eyes went wide. "Lead him to me?" he said softly, stunned.

"Well, aren't we disturbing him enough just by staying in his house?" he demanded, fidgeting.

"You are _not_ going out in that rain again. Don't even think about it," Batista warned, shuffling over, insinuating that he could hold him down again if necessary.

Rey looked at the floor and messed with the fringe of his blanket.

"Aren't we disturbing him just by being here?" the small man asked again.

Punk shrugged. "He didn't come after you before. If you keep him out of your mind then he shouldn't come back."

Rey swallowed. "I don't know about that. He looked pretty determined to kill me. Like I'm the only witness to Sylvia's murder and he doesn't want me to tell anyone about it."

Batista held Rey close. "He's not going to get to you. Even if he shows up again, he's not going to get to you."

Rey shook his head, unconvinced.

"Well, I'll be your second line of defense, Rey," Triple H volunteered and smiled tiredly.

Rey smiled back gratefully. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll be your third," Punk said, smiling pityingly at the luchador. He was looking at Rey the way a scientist gazes at a lab rat and pities it for having what may be an inevitable demise.

Rey smiled back anxiously, hoping that Punk would drop that look. His natural instinct was to smile broader at someone that started to frown at him. It was an almost apologetic way of acting. But it usually worked. It was one of those responses unique to Rey that charmed people to him. He didn't realize no one else did this. That people usually met hatred with more hatred.

_You think that ghost's going to kill me, too. I know you do._ Rey thought.

"Th-thank you," he said, stammering. "I have a heavyweight security detail, now."

Punk softened and looked at Rey a little more gently, recognizing that he'd frightened the poor thing. "You'll be all right, Rey."

He shuffled forward, reached out and set his hand against the Latino's cheek, watching him warmly now. "Yeah, you'll be all right."

Batista flinched and frowned, not liking Punk being so familiar with Rey's face.

He tensed further and his eyes flashed as he saw Punk smoothing his thumb across the firm, round bone in Rey's beautiful cheek. He knew Rey's skin was soft as pearl and he hated anyone else to touch it.

Rey was relieved, though, and didn't notice the familiarity as romantic. "I hope I will be too, man."

And he leaned forward and Punk knelt closer to him to spare Rey having to move much in his depleted state.

And Batista bit his lip almost hard enough to draw blood as the two embraced. He knew he shouldn't have thought of it as at all intimate; Rey was so affectionate with his friends that to a stranger's eyes he seemed to have hundreds of lovers who he hugged close on a daily basis. But that wasn't true. Rey was just sweet.

Batista wished that Rey was sweet to fewer people, though.

And the little man and Punk couldn't part from each other soon enough for his taste.

But much to his joy, Rey shuffled back to his side right away, holding the blanket closed at his back.

"Are you cold, buddy?" he asked Rey fondly as the luchador laid his side back against his own and he wrapped his arm around him.

Rey nodded sleepily.

Punk yawned. "Who's taking the couches?"

"I call this one," Shawn said, getting into the one on the left side of the fireplace.

"I sleep better on the floor," Triple H said, shrugging. He spread out his sleeping bag and plopped down.

"I bet you do, you caveman," Batista said, laughing a little.

Triple H stuck out his tongue at him and lay down, pulling up the covers.

Batista turned to Rey. "You want a couch?"

Rey shook his head. "I'd like to stay close to the fireplace. It feels better."

Batista nodded. He'd been ready to argue with Rey if he didn't accept a couch but getting the heat from the fire seemed like a good reason for him to stay on the floor.

"I'll stay down here with you."

"Dave, you don't have to. I'll be fine. If you want a couch you should get on one, I'm not going to get up and run again. I won't."

"You don't know that," Batista argued softly. "You didn't know you were outside at first until I pulled you in."

Rey exhaled and caved. "Okay. You should probably stay with me, then."

So Batista let Punk take the other couch.

"Night, everybody," Triple H announced.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow, my love…" Shawn said jokingly.

Even in his current state, Rey managed to roll his eyes.

"Sweet dreams," Punk said quietly and they all nodded in agreement.

"Sweet dreams…" Triple H murmured and promptly fell asleep.

Punk nodded off on the other couch minutes later.

Batista sat up with Rey, who seemed afraid to go to sleep just yet.

Rey exhaled through his nose after a while and went towards the fireplace and took up the pair of fresh sweatpants that Dave had brought him. He tucked them under the blanket and hoisted them over his feet before sliding into them.

"Going commando, are we?" Shawn teased half-heartedly.

"Leave me alone," Rey muttered and turned his back to HBK, lying down and propping his head up on his arm.

Dave looked daggers at Shawn Michaels.

"I'll go get our pillows," Dave said quietly and snuck off, tucking the blanket over Rey's shoulder before he stood.

Rey listened to the fire crackle and Triple H and Punk breathing. Punk was quieter, even in his sleep. No surprise there.

Rey felt a pang of guilt for letting himself feel at peace for even a moment. He shouldn't. Not while sweet little Randy Orton, and lovable Jeff Hardy were missing. Not while the perplexing but interestingly conversational Jericho and Edge were gone. Not while the slightly abrasive and crazy big old John Cena wasn't here.

Rey felt like he was supposed to be missing them.

Or missing Sylvia. It felt like a sin to not be praying for Sylvia's soul to pass away. Not only had the poor thing been tortured and murdered by her own father, but she'd ended up as a ghost. Rey couldn't help but feel like he was somehow the accomplice to her murder after witnessing it so closely.

He shut his eyes. "Please forgive me for not protecting you, baby girl, I'm so sorry…" Rey whispered.

Her soul was chained to this house. He hoped she would hear him somehow through these walls.

"I'm sorry, Sylvia…" Rey sniffed. "Some friend I turned out to be."

Rey wiped his eyes as he heard Batista's footsteps. Dave had brought down all of their things; that's why he'd taken so long.

Rey had started to worry that he might have disappeared too. Thank God he hadn't. Rey felt like he needed Dave now more than ever.

"_Every fucking time he gets settled, you rile him up again_," Batista whispered intensely to Shawn when he returned and thought everyone else had bedded down for the night.

"_He's scared, he nearly froze to death out there, and he's exhausted. All I'm trying to do is protect him and calm him down. What is you problem_?!"

"_Okay_!_ Okay_!_ I'll lay off_!_ Jesus_!" Shawn Michaels conceded, irked that he had to give up.

Rey didn't give any sign that he was awake and that he could hear them. He thought that he'd have to tell Shawn off himself in the morning, if he survived that long.

Batista set all their bags down and rustled over with both their sleeping bags in hand, their pillows tucked in between his biceps and his sides.

Batista had brought practically dozens of blankets.

Rey heard the big, clumsy man kneel down behind him and lean over him.

"Rey," Batista whispered softly. "Rey?"

Rey turned over to face him. "Yeah, Dave?"

"I brought you your pillow," he whispered, handing it to him.

Rey took it and lay down, turning away again.

"Rey, do you want your sleeping bag? That might warm you up a little better than just the blanket."

"Okay," Rey caved and sat up.

They spread out their bedding and Rey lay down on top of his bag without unzipping it. He didn't really want to sleep. The instant he felt warm he knew he would drift off. And he wanted to delay that pleasure for a while. The guilt over Sylvia and losing the guys was gnawing at him as thoroughly as the cold was.

Batista didn't insist that Rey get into the bag. He didn't get into his, either. But he hadn't been out in that chilling rain as long as Rey had, so feeling cold wasn't as much of an issue with him.

"You don't want another blanket, either, buddy?"

"No," Rey said quietly, but firmly.

"Rey, I have plenty. You should take a couple."

"I said no, Dave."

Batista knew better than to argue with the little guy. He was too stubborn to reason with.

"Rey, how are you feeling?" Batista whispered.

Rey rolled over and looked at him. "Like I signed my own death warrant by agreeing to come out here. You?"

Batista smiled sadly. "Yeah. Same here."

There was a pause.

Rey seemed exhausted, but so frightened and regretful that he also appeared somewhat wired. Like he was overtired and acutely aware of every noise in the night, every creak of this old house.

Rey flinched when he saw Dave yawning. The last thing he wanted to be right now was alone and awake in a deranged haunted mansion.

"Dave, can we talk for a while? I-I don't want to go to sleep yet."

"Sure. Of course. What do you want to talk about, Rey?"

Rey opened his mouth but he couldn't think of anything to say so he just closed it again.

"I don't know."

Batista smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, buddy, I'll think of a topic. You just sit still for a spell, okay?"

Rey nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Dave," he said, relieved that Batista didn't decide to give up on helping him stay awake a while longer just because there was nothing to talk about. Or maybe there was too much to talk about but not enough of it was happy.

"Rey…" Batista said after a moment. "Why do you think Michelle was afraid of Sylvia?"

Rey sat up and stared at Batista. Batista stayed in a reclining position on his side, his head in his hand. He looked like a male Cleopatra except his couch was a sleeping bag. He blinked sleepily at Rey, amused. "Did I hit a nerve?"

"I don't know. Do you…" Rey thought for a second. "Dave, do you think that Sylvia and Michelle look alike?"

Batista shrugged. "That's hard to tell, you'd have to stand the two of them next to each other."

Rey nodded. "Yeah. Or compare photographs of them."

Then he jolted like he'd been struck by lightning.

"That might actually work better," Batista agreed.

"Dave, I can make that happen."

"Make what happen?"

"Compare photographs! I may not be able to bring Michelle down here or be able to find Sylvia, but I found a photograph of Sylvia and her mother in the attic! And Sylvia gave me a photo of Michelle that Michelle had given to her when she was here! So we can compare them!"

Batista's eyes widened. "Holy shit…" he thought that over for minute.

"Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that Michelle left that photograph with Sylvia, Rey. Maybe she was hoping one of the guys would find it and compare it to the other one!"

Rey nodded. They were assembling a whole working theory now.

"If Michelle looks like Sylvia then what do you think that would mean? Is she afraid of herself?" Rey asked, his heart beating out of his chest in excitement.

"Keep in mind that Michelle's an adult, Rey. And Sylvia's still a child. So they aren't gonna look a lot alike. I don't think if they look alike, that is that Michelle would be scared by someone looking like she does now."

Rey nodded.

"She'd be scared by a child who looked like it could be her kid," Batista suggested.

"Michelle could be scared that Sylvia resembles her when_ she_ was a girl," Rey added.

Batista nodded. "Now, _that_ is probably it. But we'd have to compare photos of Michelle as a girl and Sylvia. And the picture of Michelle you have is current. Michelle as an adult."

Rey swallowed. "Maybe its…well, I don't know, but we should still try to see if they look alike."

"But that sure as hell would explain a lot if that is the case that the two look a lot alike," Batista said, agreeing.

Rey nodded.

"I have the photo of Michelle, but we need to go see Sylvia's photo. It's in the attic, Dave, we need to go look at it."

Batista exhaled tiredly. "Rey, let's do that in the morning. We'll all go up to the attic together, okay? Just not tonight. I'm not really up for fighting off the boogeyman tonight."

Rey gave a small smile. "I know, I know. In the morning."

"Should we look before or after we check the basement?" Rey asked quietly.

Batista exhaled. "Don't think about the basement now, Rey. You heard Punk. Don't think about that ghost. Just empty your mind."

Rey swallowed. "That's easier said than done."

Batista sighed. "I know, buddy. I know. You had a rough day. I know. Why don't you lie down, now?"

"I'm not sleepy, Dave, I-" Rey protested.

"Just lie down. Maybe you'll surprise yourself and fall asleep by accident."

Rey frowned and gave in. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. The fire had almost died out completely now.


	16. Massage

Chapter 16: Massage

Day Six at the Haunted House

"It's dark in here," Rey whispered.

Batista opened his eyes; he'd almost nodded off there for a second. But he couldn't blame Rey for wanting him to stay awake with him.

"Wha? Oh, yeah, it is," Batista agreed and yawned. He looked over at his friend.

"_Rey_!" Batista exclaimed and bolted upright, causing Rey to start.

"What?! Jesus, don't move so suddenly, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Rey hissed.

"Rey, you're shivering again! Why didn't you tell me?!"

Rey pulled up the blanket. "I'm fine, Dave, It's nothing, I-"

Batista laid a finger on Rey's lips, silencing him.

"Shh. Just lay still, okay?"

Rey swallowed. "Why?"

"Shh."

Batista scooted over to his friend on his knees and gently pulled back the blanket. Rey let him. He was shivering horribly.

"I'm nuh-not that cold…" Rey said, his teeth chattering with the blanket gone.

Batista sighed and set his hand against the side of Rey's face. Rey shivered and closed his eyes. Dave almost felt hot compared to his own body temperature.

"Are ice cubes warm, Rey?" Batista asked patiently.

Rey frowned. "No. Of course not. Why?"

"Because you feel like a fucking ice cube," Batista said.

Rey shut his mouth. "Okay, okay. I'm cold. I admit it. I'm freezing."

Batista sighed. "I don't know why you insist on torturing yourself sometimes. It doesn't help you to try to become a martyr, man, it really doesn't."

Rey bit his lip.

Batista took his hand away from Rey's face and set his palms against Rey's shoulders. "I'm going to have to warm you up again. So don't freak out on me now, I'm not trying to 'seduce' you, this is just how sane people try to warm up frozen people."

Rey nodded.

Batista started rubbing Rey's shoulders and around his collarbone.

"Dave, I think I'd rather be cold and a martyr than…"

"Than what, Rey?"

Rey shook his head. "I can't just lie here all content and asleep and comfortable with them lost like this. I shouldn't."

Batista shook his head. "Rey, you're not gonna do anybody any good if you drop dead of hypothermia."

Rey covered his eyes with his hands and suppressed a cry. Batista took his hands away.

"Rey, come here."

Rey shook his head miserably.

Batista exhaled exasperatedly. "Fine then, I'm coming to you."

He lay down beside Rey and set his left hand onto Rey's hip and his friend rolled over into his chest and buried his face there.

Batista patted Rey's back. "Stop blaming yourself, mi amigo."

Rey sniffed and shivered some more. "They counted on me, they all trusted me, and I just let them get taken. And Jeff, I was right there, how could I have left Jeff?"

"Shh, Rey, no, what kind of logic is that? No…what could you possibly have done to help him? Tackle that freaky ghost and fall down the basement stairs? Come on, Rey. Really."

"Dave…" Rey cried, trying to inhale and exhale at the same time he was so upset. Dave patted him.

"Catch your breath, Rey, catch your breath."

"Dave," Rey said, breathing correctly. "You can't tell anyone this; I already told Shawn earlier when we were in the attic together. I probably shouldn't have, him of all people. He'll let it slip, I just know it. I was so stupid, but I was pissed off at you, and I was…I just needed to tell someone…"

Batista blinked. Oh God. Was Rey really going to confess to him the same thing he'd confided in Shawn earlier?

_Did he…does he really trust me that much? He trusts me to keep a secret, too?_

"Dave, you can't tell anyone. Please promise me that," Rey begged.

"Of course not. Of course I won't tell anyone. I swear, Rey, I promise I won't tell. Now, what are you going to tell me?"

"Jeff's afraid of the dark," Rey whispered.

Batista blinked, successfully feigning surprise.

He was floored. He couldn't think of anything as innocent and pure-hearted as Rey believing that no one had tried to listen in on his attic talk with Shawn. And he felt so…honored that Rey trusted him enough to share Jeff's secret with him.

"Is that why you're so worried about him? Jeff confided in you that he's afraid of the dark?"

Rey nodded morosely. "He…you saw his teddy bear…he's like a little kid, he said he has to have it when he goes to sleep."

Batista recalled Rey fingering the bear's ears with that heartbroken expression on his face. He hadn't thought of it earlier during the attic talk for some reason. But he understood it now.

He rocked Rey back and forth.

"It's okay. He'll be okay. We'll find him tomorrow. We'll find Jeff tomorrow. I'm sure he's fine, Rey."

Rey dried his eyes. He was still cold and shaking.

"Shh. Lay still. Just lay still," Batista whispered.

Rey returned to his back and set his skull on his pillow, blinking sad irises up at the ceiling.

"Close your eyes, Rey," Dave whispered in his ear.

He grinned in spite of his best efforts not to when Rey silently obeyed him.

Rey was cold and that was partly bad for Dave because his flesh wasn't nearly as pleasurable to touch as it would be if he were warm. It was partly good though because if Rey's body wasn't at this temperature then Dave wouldn't be able to find an excuse to run his hands all over him in the first place.

He started out with Rey's shoulders, an innocent area that friends could touch and not catch any hell at all about it. If he touched Rey's shoulders first then Dave could convince Rey that he wasn't thinking of this interaction as anything more intimate than a hug. And Rey would feel comfortable with that.

The ploy of leading Rey into the massage with a neutral part of his torso succeeded, and Dave felt his friend's body succumb to relaxation. Rey's muscles released their tension and Dave was there to felt the power in them as they did so. Rey was certainly much stronger than he looked. But his height disarmed him and fooled Dave into believing a lot of the time that Rey was very young and innocuous.

He tried to recall the feeling of power that had been in Rey's backhanding the other day, without reliving the horrific sting afterwards. He couldn't fully gain that feeling back so he switched to thinking of Rey's hug earlier. He remembered those tightly muscled arms squeezing him like a harmless python, full of love.

Batista soon discovered that the good outweighed the bad in this scenario because Rey was so cold that he was immobilized to a large degree but not to the degree that he was unresponsive to a pleasing touch. And he was just out of it enough that he would exhale as Batista ran fingertips across his heart.

The softness of Rey's skin never ceased to amaze Batista; the Latino took excellent care of himself in every way imaginable. His muscle definition was immaculate even lying down in this position. Not disgustingly sculptured, but just toned to a fine strength that was completely palpable everywhere you touched Rey. He moved his hands along Rey's nearly invisible but hard abdominals and tried not to shudder with arousal. Rey's chest was gorgeous, and refused to sink into flab even though he was reclining. Batista swallowed a whole lot of hot desire when he discovered that Rey's nipples were hard from the cold. He couldn't linger on them without suspicion so he just smoothed over Rey's chest over and over under the guise of reheating his heart. But really he was savoring the fleshy little pricks against his hands.

He wanted desperately to lean down and lick them and then trail his tongue up along Rey's pec and over Rey's neck. He imagined Rey tensing at first, maybe not knowing what to do, but then he would give in; Rey was so out of it, he hoped Rey would just give in. Maybe he'd even want it by the time Dave would lean in and reach for his lips. He imagined Rey arching into him at the touch of his tongue and moaning softly, trying to stifle his own arousal. But he would really want it after all, he would. He would be shy and blush and be afraid that the others might wake up and see them. But Rey would ignore the fierce redness on his own cheeks and return Dave's kiss with his own. He would reach up and run his fingers along Dave's scalp as he massaged their tongues together.

Dave had tried to look away the few times that Rey couldn't avoid kissing his wife in front of Batista. Rey was an excellent kisser from the way that Angie always reacted to him. He was especially valuable in that department because he didn't seem to know just how good he was, much in the way that he didn't seem to believe anyone when they told him he was the cutest thing on the face of the earth. When the kiss was over, he'd smile sweetly and whisper something kind like, 'I missed you' or whatever the equivalent of that was in Spanish.

Angie would actually blush at her own husband sometimes. So this was where Batista pieced the kissing part of the fantasy together from.

Of course Rey was far from a pervert so Dave had never seen him make love to any thing or any one. So he had to imagine this next part all by himself. He was surprised at his own ingenuity in imagining the feel of Rey arching up again as Dave lay on his side beside Rey. Rey would shiver and rise up into Dave's pelvis with his own and they would touch and shake with anticipation.

And he would be embarrassed and open his eyes and whimper at Dave because he would be so hard and he wouldn't know he had wanted this so badly. But he would open his mouth and it would be wet with hunger and he would rub his hardness against Dave's without knowing how to stop himself. He would feel taken and unrestrained and unable to resist his friend's advances any longer. He would be a little intimidated when Dave would rub his hard-on against him in return; Dave's body was so much larger and so much thicker with muscle. But he would assure Rey with a stroke to the cheek and Rey would gasp and open his mouth and they would kiss deeply.

Dave would slip off his own pants and Rey would touch his chest anxiously, afraid to do the full deal just yet. Dave would give him a peck on the lips and smile understandingly. He wouldn't want to hurt Rey; the first time could be painful and now was not the time and place to cause Rey any more pain. He would smooth over Rey's hips and lean down there and look up at Rey for permission. Rey would nod finally and Batista would slip off Rey's pants.

He would take Rey into his mouth and suck on him for a minute. Rey would gasp and maybe try to resist, try to pull away and Dave would stop for a moment and look up at him again. Rey would open his mouth and, shivering with want, he would nod to go on.

Dave would start on him again in a less forward way this time, touching Rey with his fingers, massaging him and admiring him. He would somehow manage to make Rey even harder.

At this point Rey would call out softly and Dave would be impressed and further aroused at Rey's restraint and ability to keep himself from coming just yet.

Dave would take him in his mouth again and make it almost like a kiss so that Rey wouldn't be afraid to enjoy it.

Rey was like a fine, sweet wine, he had to be savored and loved slowly, not desperately and without great care.

Rey would tense up at the pleasure of a few small, brave licks to him with Dave's hot tongue. He would bite onto his own fist to keep from crying out in ecstasy and his dick would twitch in excitement as the man beneath him would utilize his tongue and the sucking at the same time.

A few more moments of deliciousness and then Rey would shake uncontrollably and finally come hard into Dave's mouth. He would be shivering wonderfully and very embarrassed at his first climax with another man until he realized that his pleasure had made Dave come too.

"Oh…" he would murmur. Dave would swallow all of Rey's savory, hot cum and he would lick Rey clean with small, loving strokes of his tongue. A few more drops would trickle out of Rey and he would whimper at the feeling. Dave would suck on him softly and lap them up. He would wipe his mouth after swallowing.

He would lie down close to Rey again and hold him. Rey would be fragile and feel deliriously happy, but he would rub his temple against Dave's heart and he would fall asleep this way, utterly spent. Batista would be a gentleman and cover Rey first with a blanket and then himself. He would rub Rey's back one final time as Rey sighed in his sleep and then he would nod off too. And together they would fall asleep this way.

Jesus Christ, how the hell were they supposed to explain having their pants off in the morning?!

Of course Batista imagined all of this. He was too stunned by Rey's masculine beauty to actually act on his lust.

But in real life, Rey moaned softly, on the edges of sleep a moment later.

Dear God, he even _moaned_ for him.

He was grateful right now that Rey was Hispanic not just because that was the reason why his skin looked so incredible at the moment, but because Rey's culture found it perfectly acceptable for members of the same gender to kiss each other on the cheek. He intended to take advantage of this soon.

"Why do you only warm up my body?" Rey murmured drowsily.

Batista's heart jumped in his chest. Rey probably hadn't meant it the way it sounded to him but his hormonal brain was telling him otherwise.

_Go lower._

But he suppressed the urge to.

"Because you don't have any vital organs in your limbs, Rey, unless you're hiding your kidneys in your triceps. You're not, are you?" he teased.

Rey smiled sleepily, his eyes still shut. "No."

Batista smiled and wanted to lean in close and nibble Rey's ear, but he resisted the temptation. Instead, he set his fingers on the round edges of Rey's shoulders and stretched his hands out, trailing them slowly down Rey's arms like a little in-joke between the two of them. Rey's palms were up and so the tender sides of his arms were the places where Batista could touch.

Rey smiled faintly as Dave slid his fingers off of his palms.

Batista chuckled softly. He returned to stroking the curves of Rey's waist. He'd finally become lukewarm after what felt like forever.

"Dave…"

"Yeah, Rey?"

Okay, he needed to get ahold of himself. There was no way in hell that Rey was gonna say anything romantic right now so he needed to just knock off his crazy sexual high before he set himself up to crash and burn. There would be no 'take me now, you stud' escaping from Rey's lips and he knew it, he just wouldn't admit it to himself.

"I couldn't help Sylvia, Dave," Rey confessed in a sweet little beaten-down whisper.

Talk about a buzz kill.

Batista gave a short sigh. But he was far more put out than he let on. In more ways than one. He had almost gotten a little somethin' somethin' going on there (again), if you catch my drift. Maybe it was just as well that Rey had inadvertently ruined that, because he wouldn't have known what to do with an erection if he'd achieved (another) one.

"That's exactly right, Rey, you _couldn't_ help Sylvia. Not _wouldn't_. It's that it was not at all possible for you to go back in time and prevent her death. Okay? Do you understand that?"

Batista hoped he didn't sound too harsh or bitter, but damn it, he'd wanted a Gone with the Wind "Kiss me you fool" moment, not some Bohemian Rhapsody-style hardcore pained confession of guilt for a nonexistent crime.

"Rey, how about I give you another blanket so that you at least have two layers to warm up with. I'll crawl into my sleeping bag. How about we try that?" Batista suggested, completely ready to just give up and go to sleep now.

"Don't bother; I'll just put the blanket back onto you when you're not looking. You know I will."

Rey opened his eyes and looked at Batista.

He froze.

Rey's huge brown eyes were red around the edges but the eyes themselves were not necessarily wet. They gleamed, but they weren't soaked or tearing up.

He realized then that the only way to make Rey feel better was to help him hurt himself.

Batista looked sadly down at his friend and swallowed.

"Your heart's too big, Rey," he mumbled.

"I'm working on it," Rey said quietly.

Dave nodded and leaned down, kissing Rey's forehead.

"Try to get some sleep," he pleaded, tucking the one blanket up around Rey's neck.

"I will," Rey lied. "Go to sleep, Dave."

Batista was secretly a little grateful that Rey had put on pants. He didn't know if he could have resisted the urges to kiss Rey _somewhere _if Rey's beautiful body was lying out there completely naked under that blanket.

"Night, Rey," Batista mumbled, hoping for a response.

"Goodnight," Rey returned, almost inaudibly.

Batista smiled to himself because he had heard it.

His heart skipped a beat as he lay down next to Rey and pulled up the other blanket around him.

Rey tried to sleep sometimes for Batista's sake and tried to heed Punk's advice but every time he shut his eyes long enough, the axe dropped again.

He knew in the corner of his mind that her father had dismembered her after she died with that axe.

Poor little Sylvia. Poor, sweet little thing that she was.

_Her father was sick, he must have been crazy._

_Maybe Sylvia's mother was gone because she left him when she had the chance. _

_No, she was killed.  
Well, was she killed trying to leave him?_

_But how could she have let her child with such a monster? _

_Well, maybe she was the first one that he pushed down the stairs._

_Or worse, maybe she pushed herself down the stairs. _

Rey shuddered at the thought. He hoped Sylvia hadn't seen what happened to her mother if it was anywhere near as terrible as her own demise.

He prayed quietly to himself but none of the words came out right. Rey was usually good at asking God for assistance, some sort of rescue or request for advice, but he felt lost in this house. He didn't know what to ask for or how to ask it. The words left him in this place.

He shut his eyes and tried to start over, but it was no use.

He felt utterly alone when that failed him.

He blinked; awake, in this dark, haunted house.

It didn't matter that the others were safe in the room with him. It didn't matter that Dave was right beside him, breathing and warm, and ever-present. It didn't matter that his family was safe in California. It didn't matter that God was in heaven looking down at him.

He felt abandoned. And Rey had only felt that way a few times in his life.

Dave Batista's perspective on how the night went. 

Batista managed to synchronize his sleeping with Rey's out of sheer determination to do so. The poor little guy could only sleep for at most, an hour at a time and then he would start and sit up and look around forlornly, or he would just lie there and shudder and pull his measly little blanket closer to his cold, scared body.

But Rey would feel worse in his heart if he were comfortable.

God, Batista wanted so much to just sit up and squeeze all the hurt out of Rey. He wanted his friend to snuggle over to his chest again so that he could pretend he was still asleep and wrap his arm around him. That would be romantic. If he could only convince Rey to come closer. But he never could and eventually Rey would fade out into unconsciousness again.

It didn't seem that much like sleep to Dave. _His_ sleep was surpassingly peaceful, maybe because he'd been put in a much better mood than his friend. Dave had gotten to hug his crush and force him to take off his clothes and see his junk through wet underwear, and oh sweet Jesus, Rey was gorgeous…

Dave tried not to dwell on that for too long because if he had a raging hard-on he wouldn't be able to stay with Rey, he'd have to wander off and go masturbate. Oh, the irony of it all. If he wanted to stay close to Rey he had to convince himself that he didn't want to be _that _close to Rey. But he did, of course.

But Rey's sleep was terrible. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen. It was almost like fever-dreams. He hoped Rey hadn't gotten sick during that short trip into the torrential downpour. Rey's sleep was full of nightmares and presumably reenactment after reenactment of Sylvia's murder. He shook during those dreams and sometimes Dave would reach out and stroke Rey's arm.

Rey just whimpered. Batista pulled his hand back guiltily and didn't touch him again.

Sometimes he was afraid that Rey was actually crying in his sleep.


	17. Out of Body

Chapter 17: Out of Body

Day Six at the Haunted House

In the morning, Rey didn't seem like the same person. He seemed almost like a person possessed. C.M. Punk eyed him like he suspected Rey might literally _be_ possessed.

Rey had lost all of his grace, which frankly just confounded everybody. They were used to Rey being fast and light and in control of totally cat-like reflexes.

Rey was wandering around the house bumping into things. Even when he was injured, Rey managed to be gracefully injured. He could limp with an elegance that shot spikes of jealousy through Shawn Michaels' heart. But now Rey was beside himself and apparently could not convince his legs to steer his feet away from furniture.

They all gawked at him like they were watching an alien abduction.

Rule one of WWE: John Cena cannot shut his goddamn mouth EVER.

Rule two: Rey Mysterio is graceful in all forms at all times, ALWAYS.

He'd probably never tripped over anything a day in his life. He startled himself the first time he did it and apologized profusely for making a racket and wandered away to be by himself.

He finally ended up just sitting on the porch.

He refused to eat breakfast and Dave actually brought some out to him, but he didn't touch it.

Rey seemed to be searching for something. He was scared to death of the house now, so he wouldn't wander alone. He'd always look up when he decided to leave a room and meet Dave's eyes. Dave would smile at him sadly and Rey would just blink silently back and lead him into the next room.

They were breaking the unspoken rule of going places without the entire group following and they were getting progressively further away from the living room that was home base. Batista permitted this because Rey had been kind enough to take him along.

This had started after breakfast. After they'd passed through the third room Batista couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer.

"Rey, where are you going?"

"I don't know," Rey answered blankly and kept bobbing along, ramming his shin into a bench that he never would have hit before today.

"Ow," he said lamely and hopped one legged through the next doorway. Absolutely pitiful. He had bags under his eyes to rival C.M. Punk's.

His big eyes would scan over the whole room and he would walk every inch of it, sometimes trailing his fingertips over furniture. Batista knew when he noticed that Rey's lips were moving that Mysterio was trying to call something to him.

"Rey, who are you looking for?" Batista thought to ask.

Rey stopped in his tracks. He stared at Dave. "Sylvia."

"She's dead, Rey, you can't help her."

Rey just shook his head. "I haven't seen her today. I haven't seen her at all since yesterday. She usually visits in the night if I don't see her before I go to bed."

"Rey, she's dead," Batista repeated desperately, not sure if Rey understood that.

"I _know_!" Rey shouted suddenly and stopped, covering his mouth with his hands. He ran his hands distractedly over his scalp and shook his head.

"Why do you need to find her?" Batista prodded gently.

Rey didn't answer him; he just sat down on the dusty couch, making himself cough horribly as the cloud passed over him. He wiped his eyes as they teared up from the filth.

Batista covered his mouth to keep from inhaling the dust, too.

"Rey, come on, you haven't eaten anything today. Let me get you something. Or why don't you go back to the living room again and lie down? You barely slept a wink at all last night," Batista advised.

Rey shook his head and stared at the floor. "I'm not tired."

"The hell you're not tired, when have you ever seen yourself run into things before?!" Batista blurted impatiently.

Rey flinched and reflexively touched his bruised shin. He dropped his eyes. He'd hoped that no one had noticed that.

Rey bit his lip. "I'm not."

"Rey, you are. Michelle was right. _You_ were right. You shouldn't have come here. It's doing things to you. It's messing with your head. You took Sylvia too much to heart, Rey, I should have noticed, man, I'm sorry. You just took her murder too personally," Batista apologized.

"¿Corazón?" Rey whispered suddenly, touching his chest where his was. He swallowed.

Batista didn't know what Rey was referencing so he just assumed it was either some Mexican thing or Rey being delirious.

Rey ignored the worried look on Dave's face. Batista kept mentioning his heart. Maybe he would understand later. But Rey remembered mentioning to Michelle that no one was in charge of his heart but him. It was his responsibility to make himself happy. Dave and the others had already done the best they could for him, now it was his job to buckle down and deal with things.

Rey took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders.

Batista blinked. Rey seemed to come back to himself suddenly.

And then in the next second Dave was sure that Rey had totally lost his marbles again.

Rey stood up and started shouting for the ghost girl.

"SYLVIA!!"

Punk had said something about summoning spirits. They could be called to people. Rey had no idea how to use psychic powers or whatever he was supposed to use to will Sylvia to him, so he settled for literally calling for her. Hey, screaming worked wonders on regular kids, it should work for ghost kids just as well.

"_Rey_?!" Dave blurted, stupefied.

"Rey, what the fuck are you shouting for?!" Batista demanded, but Rey ignored him and kept calling for the ghost girl.

"SYVLIA!!!"

"SYLVIAAAAAAAA!!!" Rey screamed.

C.M. Punk, Shawn Michaels and Triple H all came panting into the room.

"What the fuck has gotten into him?" Shawn asked.

"He's trying to call Sylvia? Why?" Triple H said.

"SYLVI- mmmf!" Rey exclaimed as Batista ran up behind him and covered his mouth. "Rey, calm down! Jesus!"

Rey squirmed, but Dave wouldn't let go of him.

Suddenly Triple H started and hid behind Shawn Michaels.

"Oh my God…" C.M. Punk said in awe.

Rey's eyes lit up and Batista released him from muffling.

"Sylvia!" Rey said, grinning.

The little girl was panting after dashing through a solid wall to get to him.

"Baby girl, where were you?!" Rey blurted and threw his arms around her.

She giggled and hugged him back. She kissed his cheek playfully.

He leaned back from her, a small mark like a little burn fading away from his face where she'd touched him. He set his hands on her waist, not wanting to let her go.

They all blinked as they saw the mark vanish. Rey was right. Whenever he touched the ghost girl, a little freezer burn would appear on his skin.

"Are you all right now? After you ran off the other day, I didn't see you."

Sylvia nodded.

"You're okay now?"

She nodded firmly and smiled at him.

He smiled back. "You had me worried there."

She started moving her lips very fast.

"Wait, wait. Easy. There's nobody here who can read your lips anymore, baby girl, I'm sorry."

Sylvia stopped 'talking' and pouted.

"Let's get you a pen and some paper, okay?" Punk suggested. He left with a reluctant Triple H and HBK as escorts and he came back a minute later with a sketch pad, two pens, and two wheezing older wrestlers. He handed the things to Rey, who set them down and patted the floor.

Sylvia sat where he motioned her to and he laid out the pad before her.

"'What did you want to ask me?'" Rey read.

"Well, I was hoping you knew where my friends were."

_I didn't take them._

"Who did? Was it someone else? Do you know who took my friends, Sylvia?"

_Papa did._

Rey looked at her worriedly. She stared back at him grimly.

"That…that man with the…who killed you. Is he your father?"

Sylvia nodded.  
"I was afraid of that."

_I can lead you to where he takes them._

"Sylvia, baby, listen to me. This is very important."

The little girl's eyes widened and she watched Rey, paying strict attention.

"Are my friends alive?"

She nodded fervently.

"All of them?"

More nodding.

Rey sighed, relieved.  
"Oh, thank God."

_I can take you to them, but I need your help._

Rey read that aloud and stared at Sylvia in concern.

"What do you need, baby girl?"

_I need to borrow you._

Rey blinked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Sylvia had seen them all using this 21st century gesture known as the shrug to communicate that they were unsure. She shrugged. She could only show him.

She dropped the pen and stepped closer to Rey. He looked back at her, perplexed, and she set her hands against his temples. Rey felt the slight burn of his living skin coming into contact with her ectoplasm or whatever her skin had become.

"Sylvia, what are you…?" Rey asked and then stiffened. His voice ceased to work. They all watched, confused.

Rey's eyes grew hazy and his breathing slowed.

"Oh…I understand…go ahead…" Rey murmured and then suddenly he collapsed, and Sylvia vanished.

Batista dashed over and caught him.

Rey's eyes were closed and his mouth was shut tight.

"Rey, wake up! REY!!!" Batista cried, his deep voice becoming mangled and strained.

"REEEEY…" he sobbed, shaking Rey's small, limp body.

"Batista! Easy, man! Easy!"

"Punk…Punk, I don't know what to do, he won't wake up, I can't wake him up…"

A huge slap cracked Dave Batista straight across the face.

He put a hand to his sore jaw and gaped at C.M. Punk in shock.

"Sorry about that, but you need to get ahold of yourself. Are you calm?"

"No, I'm not calm! Rey's hurt or something, how can I be calm?!"

Punk sighed and held his hand over Rey's mouth. He felt the faint touch of air escaping Rey's body.

"He's breathing."

"Oh, thank God," Batista said, relieved.

"Hold my flashlight for me."

"What are you going to do?" Dave asked, frowning, and taking it in his hand.

"Take his pulse."

Punk lifted up the sleeve of his hoodie and motioned for Dave to shine the light on his watch in the dim light of the room, which he did. The black-haired wrestler held Rey's wrist and looked at his watch, mouthing numbers as he counted.

After one minute, Punk spoke.

"He's fine. His pulse is normal. Maybe he's not asleep, Dave."

"No, he's not conscious. Not at all."

"Well, Rey is a heavy sleeper…" Punk said, his voice trailing off.

"I shook him. He's not _that_ heavy of a sleeper. No one is."

"Did you hear what he said before he passed out? I couldn't hear him from the doorway after he asked Sylvia what she was doing," Punk explained.

"He said something. But it was nothing that made any sense," Batista said.

"It's Rey, Dave. If he said something right before passing out then it was probably important."

"He said 'go ahead.' But he was talking to Sylvia, he wasn't talking to us, I don't think."

"Will she know what to do? Does she know what's wrong with him?" Punk asked.

Dave shook his head. "I don't know. He didn't say. That one sentence was all he got out."

Punk sighed and look at Rey, smoothing over the Latino's cute shaved scalp.

"I hope we can find her again. She couldn't have disappeared completely…"

Punk closed his eyes tight and appeared to be meditating fiercely.

"What are you doing?" Triple H asked him.

"Trying to summon Sylvia again," Punk said through clenched teeth, he was concentrating so hard.

Shawn snorted. "Whatever, don't give yourself an aneurysm. As long as Rey's alive, who cares where that little kid is?"

Rey's eyelids fluttered. And then they opened completely.

Batista smiled broadly. "Rey!" he blinked. "Oh my God, your eyes!"

Punk stopped his meditation and saw Rey's brilliant blue irises and gasped.

Rey struggled to sit up. He struggled to do anything. Batista held him up to a sitting position.

He looked dizzy and disoriented.

"Thank you, sir…" Rey murmured in an uncharacteristically light tone. It was softer. It was in Rey's voice, but as though it was a part of his voice that went unused because frankly, it made him sound like a small girl.

Batista didn't like the voice, but the words were kind of a turn-on. Rey had never called him 'sir' or 'mister' or even 'señor' a day in his life. Dave had hopes that this would become a habit.

Rey touched his throat faintly. "Oh. This voice feels…lower."

"Rey, what's gotten into you?!" Batista asked, frightened.

"Easy, Batista, back up from him for a second," Punk advised.

Batista reluctantly stood and helped Rey to his feet before backing away.

Rey held his head and shut his eyes with a child-like expression. Like a little kid that had hit their head and was too old to cry but too upset not to dwell on the injury.

Punk observed this for a minute.

"Rey, look at me."

Rey didn't look up. Punk furrowed his brow suspiciously.

"Sylvia, is that you?" Punk asked carefully.

Rey looked up with his new blue eyes at Punk and nodded.

"Yes."

Batista blinked at him, shocked.

"_What_?!"

He nearly fainted. God, he hoped Rey wouldn't stay this way. If he –or she– did then that might make Dave a pedophile now.

"That can't be Sylvia, that's Rey! That-what…how?!" he demanded lamely.

Punk shrugged. "Doesn't matter how. Sylvia is inside Rey's body, controlling it."

Rey nodded. "Yes. I need to borrow him."

"OH. MY. GOD." Triple H said slowly.

"What do you mean Sylvia's inside him?!" Batista demanded, shaking Punk.

"Where's Rey's soul if Sylvia hijacked his body?!"

"He is in here still."

Batista stared incredulously at Rey-Sylvia.

With some difficulty, the ghost commanded the new body to perform a nervous swallow.

"Rey is in here. He is asleep. I am awake. He and I can be together inside here, but we cannot both be awake."

Punk's eyes widened in fascination. This was a dream come true for his fun-fact devouring mind. He loved ghost lore, now he got to explore it firsthand!

"Oh, that's so cool! You mean to say that there can only be one conscious person in a body at a time?" Punk asked.

Rey-Sylvia thought that over. "Yes."

Punk grinned. "Oh my God, that's amazing. How many souls can a body hold?"

"This one can hold two," Rey-Sylvia answered.

"Is it different for every body?" Punk continued, excited.

"Yes," Rey-Sylvia said assuredly.

"You mean you've possessed people before?" Batista asked gently, not sure what tone to take. This was scaring him thoroughly. Just last night he had gotten off to the pleasure of interacting with Rey's body, and now it didn't even belong to Rey anymore.

Could he still have feelings for this thing? Jesus, he hoped this possession wouldn't last long. That would be a travesty if Rey's body had to be permanently treated as though he were a virginal little girl.

"Yes. I try to find girls or ladies, but the people who come here are often boys or gentlemen."

"Did you possess Michelle McCool?" Batista thought to ask. "Is that the link between you two?"

Rey-Sylvia shook her head. "No. I talked to her. She is my friend. Ask Rey when he comes back. She is my friend like he is. But she is much scarier than him. I did not want to try to borrow her."

Triple H laughed hysterically at the thought that the ghost girl considered a grown man far less intimidating to possess than Michelle.

"Oh, God, that's true… Michelle is so much scarier than Rey…" Triple H cried in between his laughs.

Shawn snorted, already finding ways make this situation funny. "Well, by Sylvia's logic, then Dave here should be able to fit three or four souls _inside_ him."

Dave smacked him to the back of the head. "Stop mocking Rey's size! He hates that! Plus, you're barely bigger than him, you hypocrite!"

Rey-Sylvia covered his/her mouth. "Please stop fighting!" she requested.

(They had decided to settle on the pronoun 'she' to describe her. Yes, it was a male body, but it was a female consciousness occupying it right now.)

Punk patted her back. He smiled reassuringly and chuckled. "Its okay, Sylvia. They're boys. Boys like to roughhouse, right?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Sylvia, would you like to take us to our friends, now?" Punk requested kindly.

Rey-Sylvia nodded.

She tried to walk and tottered around, frowning, perplexed at being taller, and probably some other…things.

Punk braced her and said, "You got it? Can you walk by yourself? Do you need me to hold your hand or anything, Sylvia?"

Rey-Sylvia shook her head and tottered out the door.

"I do not think I like borrowing boys," Rey-Sylvia said as she led them down the hall.

Triple H chuckled. "Why?"

"They have too many extra parts."

Shawn sniggered.

Batista followed Rey-Sylvia closely, afraid that the girl would damage Rey's body.

"Sir?" she asked him, noticing that he seemed intensely worried.

"Uh…yeah?" Batista asked awkwardly.

"Are you Rey's best friend?"

Batista smiled nervously. "I'd like to think I am, yeah."

She made Rey smile in a way that just might have looked even cuter than the way he usually did.

"He told me to ask you not to worry about him."

Batista chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, I bet he did tell you that, Sylvia. That sounds like Rey."

She smiled.

She led them to the basement stairs to no one's surprise.

"It will be safe for you to get your friends now because the sun is out. My father only comes at night."

Rey-Sylvia's body shuddered suddenly and Batista braced her shoulders to make sure Rey wouldn't fall.

His voice was the one that emerged next, but it echoed, as though he were being kept in the back of his own head. He was talking to Sylvia.

"Baby girl, can you let me take over, now? I'd like to see the guys."

"Yes, Rey."

"Thank you."

That was the most bizarre thing to witness two very different voices coming out of Rey's mouth.

"Wait, Sylvia!" Punk said.

He snapped a photo of Rey with blue eyes on his digital camera.

Rey-Sylvia rubbed her eyes, not accustomed to the flash of 21st century cameras.

"There we go. I bet nobody will believe it when we tell them Rey's eyes turned blue without contacts for once," Punk said with a grin. "Plus I have proof that somebody got _possessed _by a_ ghost_! How awesome is that?!"

Rey-Sylvia appeared sleepy, much like how Rey had looked when Sylvia possessed him in the first place.

"Dave…you're gonna have to catch me…" Rey's echoing voice said, drifting out.

Rey-Sylvia's breathing slowed and her eyes rolled into the back of her head and Batista caught Rey as he passed out again.

"Rey? Buddy…?" Batista asked weakly, patting his cheek.

"Uh…" Rey opened his eyes. They were dark chocolate brown again. Still, Batista didn't want to take any chances. He stared down warily at his friend's body.

"Which one are you?"

Rey shut his eyes and then opened them again. His vision focused.

"I'm me," Rey answered, his voice back to normal.

Sylvia materialized in ghost form a few feet away, next to Punk, in fact.

Rey blinked drowsily. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Batista set his hand on the side of Rey's face, looking deep into his eyes. "Say something only you would know how to say."

Rey thought for a second.

"Mi amigos no pueden decir el Español."

Batista laughed and squeezed Rey joyfully. "It's you! Or at least I hope so; I doubt a little white girl from the nineteen hundreds knows how to speak Spanish."

Rey chuckled. "Yeah."

"What did you say, something about your friends and Spanish?" Shawn asked him.

"I said 'my friends can't speak Spanish'," Rey translated.

Triple H snorted. "No, apparently we really _really_ can't."

Rey grinned.

"Hey Rey, your eyes turned blue like Sylvia's when she had control of you," Punk informed him.

"No way…" Rey groaned when he tried to sit up. "Oh, God, my head…"

Dave supported him at the elbows.

"No, really, Rey, your eyes changed color completely," Batista insisted.

"No, I mean it. I literally do not believe you," Rey said stubbornly.

Punk showed him the picture.

"Maria, Madre de Dios…" Rey murmured, rubbing his temples.

"Are my eyes still that color?"

"No, they're brown again."

"God…" he looked at the ghost girl. "Did I turn into a cute little girl, too?"

Sylvia laughed and shook her head.

Rey grinned.

Batista set his hands on Rey's shoulders protectively and frowned at the ghost girl, who hid behind Punk.

"Why did she have to hijack you if all she had to do was lead us to the basement?"

Rey sighed. "Don't you go starting fights with small children now. It had to happen. We all would have worried so intensely on the way over to the basement door that our thoughts would have been enough to summon Sylvia's father. Punk was right; it's our thoughts about Sylvia's father that call him. He can manifest at night because when we're asleep, we're having nightmares about him and when we're awake at night we're thinking about the nightmares. We would have summoned him, so she had to suppress my thoughts because especially…" Rey swallowed. "Especially my thoughts would have been enough to summon him."

Sylvia peeked out from behind Punk's leg.

Rey smiled at her.

"Plus she thought it would be fun, I think," Rey teased.

Sylvia giggled.

Batista sighed. "Well, I didn't think it was funny."

"We did," Shawn and Triple H said together.

"Could you hear everything that Sylvia said while she was controlling your body?" Punk asked Rey.

"Oh, yeah. I knew what was going on; it was just like I was in the backseat of my own car while Sylvia was driving, except, the car was…my body."

"Yeah, we get the metaphor, Rey," Shawn said, sighing.

"Were you backseat driving?" Batista teased.

Rey ruffled Batista's hair into his eyes, mussing it up. "Ha ha ha. No. I wasn't."

Batista laughed and helped Rey back to his feet.

They wandered over to the basement entrance.

"There's a big black space down there. Is that where they are? Why didn't they just come out with the trapdoor gone?" Punk asked.

Rey shook his head. "Sylvia told me that there's a door down there that's locked from our side. And there's a key at the top of the doorframe. Even when she's solid, she's too short to reach it. They're in that locked room."

Batista stared at Rey.

"Sylvia told you all that in your head? When she was possessing you?"

Rey gave a short sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"It's complicated…I could speak to her, like instantaneously and she could speak to me that way, too."

"So whatever you thought she heard?" Punk asked.

Rey frowned and looked at the little girl.

She looked up into his face.

"Yes. I think that's what happened."

Triple H whistled. "Dang, that's weird."

Shawn giggled hysterically. "I'm glad she went _inside_ you instead of _inside_ somebody like me or Batista, Rey, because we wouldn't be able to edit all the nasty stuff we think of."

Batista growled. "Hey, that's not true. I can be nice to kids."

Sylvia and Rey exchanged glances and he laughed.

"She just pointed at you Shawn and raised an eyebrow at me…" Rey gasped, chuckling.

"She doesn't think you can be nice, I guess."

Shawn stuck out his tongue.

Sylvia was about to do the same but pouted because she realized she didn't have one.

Rey patted her hair.

"Don't mind him, baby girl, he's just…he's just silly."

Batista snorted.

"He's more than that."

Rey sighed tiredly.

They all looked back to the basement stairs.

There was an apprehensive pause.

"So who wants to go?" Triple H asked.

"Rey, you're not going down there," Batista intoned sternly. "I don't want to risk it."

Rey sighed and set his hand on Sylvia's head. She stared up at him.

"I'll stay here with you and Sylvia, Dave, calm down."

"I'll go," C.M. Punk volunteered. They handed him a flash light.

"Good luck, man," Triple H said as Punk went down the stairs.


	18. Dead or Alive

**Sooo….I "destroyed" ppl, hm? Thank you and you're welcome. (wink, wink). I will be writing a Rey X Batista slashfic in the very near future. I've already started on several naughty parts. LOL. If you have any suggestions for a title, let me know, but I will warn you it will be graphic (the good stuff, no abuse or anything) and angsty (oh the tragedy!). So don't let small children read over your shoulder or anything. **

**But, thank you for your comments, everyone! They're all very awesome, and I'm glad that people are laughing and that people loved the daydreaming segment, which is probably my favorite part in the entire story. Batista just seems like a bit of a pervert to me, sorry to say, but at least he's a secret one and not a full-on creep like HBK. I love him, though, as a screw-up. **

**alethea293, your comment was one of the best I've ever read, thank you so much for letting me know your opinion on each of the characters, it lets me know that I'm writing them the way I think of them.**

**milady2222, I'm glad that you've warmed up to C.M. Punk, he's one of my favorites. **

**Diathawwedevil, I take it as a HUGE compliment that you thought enough of my story to have it in mind in your everyday life and incorporate the haunted house into your literature class. I think that's awesome. I have to tell you though, I made that place up; it's not real. Sorry if that ruins your dreams of ever wanting to visit a place called Sassafras, Massachusetts because I made it up off the top of my head. I hope it wasn't like a serious real-life history-related assignment; I wouldn't want you to get a bad grade because I like to fabricate my locations to add kind of a fantasy element in. **

**Any new (and returning, too, I still love you) readers, THANK YOU!!! PLEASE COMMENT!!!**

Chapter 18: Dead or Alive

Day Six at the Haunted House

Moments later a cascade of happy wrestlers burst upward from the stairs and Sylvia ran and hid behind Batista, who smiled awkwardly at her.

John Cena scooped Rey up as though he were weightless.

He nearly suffocated the cruiserweight in his arms. "OOoh, what would I do without my Rey-Rey? I couldn't spend another day without you, man!"

"Okay, okay! Enough love! Put me down now, Cena!"

Batista cleared his throat, hinting that he'd enforce Rey's order by crossing his big, beefy arms.

Cena set Rey down reluctantly and Rey caught his breath only to be rushed by Randy, Edge and Jericho. He hugged all of them and laughed happily.

Batista smiled at the beautiful grin stretched across Rey's face.

Then Punk walked up with the tenth and final member of their escapade.

"Jeff!" Rey shouted and raced over to the Hardy brother.

Jeff looked at Rey with his little cat-like smile.

Everyone watched as the two men watched each other and there was a silent exchange of joy as they met each other's eyes.

Batista tried not to tear up at the sight of the two stepping closer and then throwing their arms around each other.

Rey squeezed his friend, so grateful to see him safe and sound.

"I missed you, Rey," Jeff said, hugging the little guy.

He whispered something into his ear and Rey looked at him, surprised.

"Really?"

Jeff nodded proudly.

Rey beamed at him. "That's great!"

"Oh my God, Sylvia is such a sweetheart, Rey! She helped us! We couldn't escape or else her dad would get mad, but she snuck us food last night," Randy explained, rushing up to the luchador.

So that's where everyone's food had disappeared to.

"How did she get food to you?" Rey asked, frowning. "Wasn't the door solid?"

"There's like this doggy door or something there on the bottom of it that Sylvia would drop things through."

Rey looked over at the ghost girl, smiling. He'd wondered where she went sometimes.

"So that's where you were at, baby girl! Come here. I'm very proud of you," Rey said.

Sylvia ran into Rey's leg and he smoothed over her hair. He beamed down at her.

"God, you'd adopt her if you could, wouldn't you?" Shawn asked him.

Rey shrugged. "Maybe I would."

He sighed, exhausted. "Sylvia's still here."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"Why won't you rest, sweetheart?" Rey asked her sadly.

She bit her lip and just hugged his leg harder.

"But we know how you died. Once people find out how a ghost dies, doesn't that pacify them?" Rey said, talking half to Sylvia and half to Punk.

Punk shrugged. "A little. But Sylvia's not at peace. We have two days left to find out what will put her to rest."

"So the clock's ticking now?" Batista asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Rey sighed again. "Well, whatever we're doing, Everyone needs to stick together from now on."

"Okay," they all said.

Everyone decided to eat lunch and Sylvia looked to Jeff Hardy and mouthed a sentence.

"What did she say?" Rey asked him.

"She said she needs to rest and that she'll see you later."

"All right. I'll see you at our usual spot at ten, okay?"

Sylvia nodded and walked down the hall.

Rey turned around. He didn't like to see her vanish; it gave him chills. But he heard her footsteps fade.

"Rey, you just got finished saying that you wanted everybody to stick together. And now you're gonna go off by yourself to see Sylvia tonight?" Punk asked concernedly.

Rey looked to Dave. "Could you come with me?"

Everyone thought about it. So far the ghost hadn't managed to get either Rey or Batista, especially not when they were together.

Batista exhaled. He never could say no to Rey. "Of course, buddy. I'll come with you."

Rey smiled at everyone. "There. I won't be alone. I'll have a bodyguard."

"Now let's go eat lunch," Shawn said grumpily. "I'm starving."

"You think _you're_ hungry? You should try getting your ass possessed sometime," Rey sighed.

"Are you seriously that hungry right now?" C.M. Punk asked curiously.

"I could eat a whale," Rey said honestly.

Batista snorted. "I always feel that way at lunchtime."

"That's why you're fat, Dave," Rey teased.

Batista rolled his eyes. Then he saw Rey was walking a bit oddly.

"Are you limping?" he asked the luchador.

"No, no. I just…Dios, don't ever get possessed. I forget how to work my feet. I feel like I was asleep for a week, I'm all pins and needles right now."

"You need me to carry you, or-?" Batista asked him, moving closer to Rey.

"No, Dave. I think I know how to be careful with my own body, thank you very much."

They walked downstairs and Rey made a point of smacking his palm down onto the railing to show Batista that he was using it and to stop staring at his every move.

They all ate lunch and things seemed much louder and definitely much happier now that half of the group had returned.

John Cena alone made the sounds and the jokes and the talking much crazier and much more carefree.

Batista looked at Rey and knew that even though they weren't out of the woods yet, the luchador appeared to be feeling much better.

After lunch Rey took out the photograph of Michelle McCool and the Divas.

"Dave, remember when we talked about this the night I was sick?" Rey asked Batista.

Batista swallowed. He remembered that night very vividly and would think of it often for years to come. He wasn't so sure Rey remembered it so well, he'd been so upset and so cold.

"Yeah, I remember."

"I want to go back to the attic and compare the photographs. I think…" Rey frowned. "I feel like something will click in my head if I compare the two of them."

Batista nodded. "Let's go, then." He took a flashlight along just in case they were gone longer than he thought.

Punk and the others waved goodbye.

They stepped up all the flights of stairs and Rey went first into the attic. Batista had never been up there; when the guys had searched it days ago he hadn't gone. It had been Shawn and Jeff because they were lighter and the attic was so small that it could only hold two people anyway.

It was dark in there.

Batista squinted. He saw Rey's shape but couldn't make out his eyes or his face.

"Dave, could you click on the flashlight? I can't see very well."

Batista obliged.

His eyes widened in awe. "My God…it's like…everything's covered in…"

"It's dust."

"Really? It looks like frost, almost."

Rey smiled. "I like it up here. Do you?"

Batista looked around and saw the hand painted wooden rocking horse, the wooden crates, the dried herbs. The ancient furniture.

"This seems like…like walking into a time capsule or something. It's incredible. It's like another world."

Rey nodded. "Yeah."

He stepped carefully. "Dave, could you shine the light over here? I think Sylvia's stuff is this way."

Batista lifted the light ahead of them where Rey was pointing and they saw a tiny, shock white shape.

Rey knelt down beside it and looked through the pile, selecting the photograph.

"Good. It's still here."

"Rey, what is that thing?" Batista asked a little fearfully.

"What's what?"

"That white thing. What is that?"

Rey grinned and motioned for Batista to sit down. He did, cross legged. He laid down the flashlight a foot behind and in between them so that they could use it as a lamp.

Batista noticed suddenly how tired Rey looked when he didn't think anyone was watching him. He had such a youthful face and such a sweet disposition that he could usually fool everyone that he was feeling well even when he was the farthest thing from it.

Rey picked up the oddly shaped white object and held it out to Batista, who was hesitant to take it.

"What is it?"

"You tell me," Rey said vaguely with a smile. He wanted to see if Dave knew what it was.

Batista looked at the object on all sides. "It's a skull."

"From what?" Rey coaxed. Batista heard from the tone that Rey was testing him.

"Uh…some kind of bird."

Rey chuckled. "It's a starling, Dave."

"How the hell did Sylvia find a bird skull like this?"

"The owls eat the starlings and cough their bones up into pellets."

Batista stared at his friend. "You think this creepy little skull is cool, don't you?"

Rey laughed. "It's not that creepy, Dave, come on. Look at it."

Batista stared down at the thing doubtfully. "I don't know. I've never had a thing for the body parts of dead things."

Rey shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because it's a skull it makes me think of Día de los Muertos or something. But it's so smooth and perfect and the beak is curved like…just so slightly, it's amazing. And it's so white it could be a pearl without the shininess, you know?"

Batista looked at the skull again and saw it through Rey's eyes. The huge eye sockets gazed up at him with a kind of beautiful loneliness that had a magic to it.

"I like the eyes," Batista said slowly. "Or the spaces where they were, anyway."

Rey smiled and a spark of joy lit his irises at Batista seeing the value in it.

He took it gingerly and set it back into the pile.

"I think I had marbles when I was a kid," Batista said conversationally when he saw the felt bag of marbles.

"Okay, Dave, enough toys and things. Let's get down to business here. What do you see?"

Batista looked at the two photographs. He pointed to the one of Michelle.

"That one is a mean, mean lady and that one…" he pointed to the one of Sylvia and her mother. "Is a nice little girl."

Rey sighed, exasperated.

"Fine, I'll figure it out. Just don't hurt Sylvia's stuff when you're playing with it."

Batista grinned. "I was never very observant anyway, Rey. I could look but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything."

Rey shooed him away. "Let me think, then."

He covered his mouth in thought and looked back between the photographs for a long time. Every now and then Batista made a clinking sound with the marbles or another trinket.

Rey's brain hurt after a while. He struggled to see too much of a resemblance between Michelle and Sylvia except that they were both blondes. Rey didn't even think Michelle was a natural blonde like the girl was. He'd never asked her that; he thought it would be rude to. But if she wasn't really blonde, then that could be important. Because then she wouldn't have been blonde as a child. And Sylvia wouldn't have reminded her of her childhood in that case. If blonde wasn't Michelle's natural color then that would rule out their other theory, too, that Sylvia might look like Michelle's daughter if Michelle ever had one.

Rey sighed, frustrated. Why was it that there was a bond between Michelle and Sylvia? And why did his mind keep telling him that that was the key to helping Sylvia rest?

Rey rubbed his eyes and looked over at Batista, who had put marbles into the eye sockets of the starling skull. Rey looked at him with his mouth in a disapprovingly straight line.

Batista quickly removed the marbles with an apologetic grin on his face.

"What?"

"You don't have any shame. You never have. You always mess with other people's stuff. For the love of God that belongs to a dead girl and you still don't have any respect for it."

Batista sighed.

"Rey, I wasn't hurting it, I was just messing around. Stop acting like you're my mother."

Rey's eyes widened in epiphany. "Say that again."

Batista frowned. "Why? Are you gonna slap me for saying that?"

Rey shook his head. "No, Dave, something about mothers. Mothers…"

He snatched up the flashlight and looked back at the photographs.

"Dave," Rey said quietly. "Look at this."

"What is it, Rey?"

"Michelle doesn't look like Sylvia," Rey said, pointing at the picture of the smiling Diva. "We were looking at the wrong person." Rey pointed to the old photo of Sylvia.

"Michelle looks like her mother."

Batista stared from one photo to the next and his eyes widened in awe.

"That was the connection between them…" Batista whispered.

"Yeah."

"Why is that important?" Batista asked his friend awkwardly.

"Because, Dave. I told you. No one knows where her mother went. Her mother vanished."

"So…?" Batista asked.

"Dave, the woman on the stairs was blonde, right? And tall and pretty?"

Rey held up the older photo. "You're sure it was Sylvia's mother?"

Batista scrutinized the image of the woman for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm positive that that was her."

Rey nodded. "Then she was pushed down the stairs. And since the brochure says she 'vanished' then that must mean someone hid her body. Which means she was murdered."

"Wait, wait, how do you know it wasn't a suicide?"

"Dave, why wouldn't her husband report to the authorities that he'd found the body of his wife?" Rey asked him.

Batista understood then. "Yeah, you're right. He must have had something to do with it. He may not have pushed her down the stairs, but he did hide her body. Isn't that a crime somehow?"

Rey bit his lip. "I'm not sure. But I don't think the reason why Sylvia's haunting her house is because she wants her father to be punished. Because he's dead now, too. Me, Punk, Jeff, Randy, John, Edge and Jericho all saw that her father is dead. There's nothing left to do to punish him now that he's dead. I don't think she wants her father punished, Dave. I think she wants to find her mother."

Batista nodded. "I think so too."


	19. Drawing Blood

**This is part of the end of the ghost plot. Keep in mind, there's a second plot with Shawn Michaels going on, and they still need to resolve things with him. So don't get mad at me when I get around to HBK! It's an interesting plot, too, it's just not as supernatural. **

Chapter 19: Drawing Blood

Day Six at the Haunted House

They came down from the attic and Rey had gave both photographs to Batista, who tucked them gingerly into an inside pocket of his jacket.

"Dave, please be careful with those."

"I will, Rey-Rey, don't you worry."

Rey raised his head to look up into Batista's eyes. Rey's were full.

"I feel bad things in this house. The murders…just thinking about them…it's just so terrible, that it scares me."

Batista rubbed his thumb affectionately across Rey's cheekbone.  
"Buddy, don't you worry. I won't let you get hurt."

Rey swallowed shakily.

Batista set his hand on Rey's cheek and lifted the compact man's face back up toward his.

Rey's deep eyes gleamed beautifully.

"Try not to think about the ghosts, Rey. Try not to."

Rey blinked slowly. "Okay."

Batista embraced him. "Rey, you're doing well so far. It's almost over. You've almost finished everything. You just need to help Sylvia and then we can all rest easy, okay?"

Rey hugged his friend in return. "Yeah. Okay, man, I-I can do that."

Batista patted his back gently. "All right. Let's go get some dinner."

**

Batista fell asleep on a couch waiting for ten o'clock to arrive. He'd set the photographs on the coffee table and Rey stared at them for hours on end. The luchador knew every detail about both pictures by the time ten o'clock was ready to roll around.

Everyone else had fallen asleep even before Batista. Rey was alone.

He sighed when it was one minute until ten.

He'd waited as long as he could for Batista to wake up on his own.

"Dave," he whispered.

No response at all from the large man with his mouth hanging open on the couch. His feet lay dangling over the arm of the couch he was so tall. He was breathing loudly.

"Dave," Rey said again, a little louder this time.

He couldn't shake him awake as he would any other person because Dave's first reaction to being woken up away from home was to hit whoever did it.

It had happened to Rey once before and luckily they had been alone in the room together, because frankly the whole thing had been embarrassing for both parties involved.

Rey hadn't expected what was coming and he'd shaken Batista's shoulder one morning. "DAAaaaAAAaave!" he groaned.

Dave started awake, simultaneously cracking Rey across the face.

Rey made a "yipe!" sound and his knees buckled, stunned.

He blinked up at Dave in shock.

"Unnh, Rey, what the hell?" Batista grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
"What did I do?" Rey demanded.

Batista frowned "What did you-?" And he started, realizing what had just happened.

He scrambled down to his knees in front of Rey.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

"_Okay_?! What the fuck, man? What did I do to deserve that?" Rey shouted.

"Nothing, buddy, nothing. Aw, damn it, I'm sorry…I hope you don't bruise 'cause of me, I'm so sorry…"

Rey had his hand pressed against his injured cheek and Batista laid his larger hand over it, trying to gently pry it away, but Rey wouldn't budge.

Rey looked at him questioningly. "Do you do that a lot? You hit people first thing in the morning when they touch you?"  
Batista shook his head. "No, no, only when I'm on tour. At work. I don't trust-"

Rey was looking at him with such worry in his eyes, his mouth peeking open in disbelief.

Batista swallowed. "I trust you, Rey, I do. No one else but you, though."  
Rey looked at him sadly. He didn't know what to say to that.

"Let's get some ice on that," Batista said, and rocked back on his haunches, about to stand up.

Rey shook his head, taking his hand off of his face. "No, man, I'm fine. I'm not so fragile that I-" he winced, having stretched his jaw too far. "Shit."

Batista smiled a crooked, embarrassed smile.

"Why did you hit me so hard?" Rey frowned.

Batista stood up, strode to the ice bucket, found a hand towel, and poured some into it. He knelt down again, and motioned as though he were going to hand the ice to Rey.

Rey took his hand away from his face to accept it and Batista leaned in and pressed Rey's cheek with the cold.

"I didn't mean to, buddy. Sorry."  
Rey swallowed, his eyes bright, and pleasantly surprised by Batista's backhanded kindness.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the makeshift ice pack, his lips turned upward. Batista smiled a little, too, when Rey wasn't looking.

"And in case you were wondering, _yes_ your fat ass bowled me over."  
Batista laughed at that. "I wasn't thinking about that."  
"I'm on the floor, and you know I wasn't when I poked at you. So of course you're thinking about that."

Batista chuckled. "I can't help weighing more than you do."

Rey rolled his eyes.

"It's either that or you secretly want to smack me around."  
Batista snorted at that. "Not a chance, Rey-Rey."

So Rey couldn't wake Batista up now.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Dave, but I have to go now."

Batista never stirred.

Rey stepped tiredly up the stairs and went to the hallway where he usually met Sylvia. He remembered too late that he forgot to bring a flashlight.

He exhaled through his nose and called softly, "Sylvia?"

The little girl materialized. He wondered vaguely what she drew energy from to manifest.

He was standing in the large room that was like a living room that the hallway with the portrait opened up into. And Sylvia stood at the entrance of the hallway. She looked anxious.

He frowned. "Sylvia, what's wrong?"

Rey felt a chill.

He whipped around and started. "Oh, God…"

He backed away. Sylvia hadn't been the only ghost to materialize.

Sylvia's father stood with an axe in his hand, about two feet taller than Rey, glowing in a sickly way and staring down the luchador with dark, hideous eyes.

Rey swallowed and tried to call out.

"D-Dave? Dave…?!" but his voice was a hoarse whisper and he couldn't make it any louder. He was so frightened.

Rey was shaking, but instinctively, he backed slowly up towards the little girl, moving to a position where he could guard her.

His gloved hands fumbled around in his hoodie pocket and he found his mask. He put it on and secured the strap, never taking his eyes off of the dark spirit before him. It was stepping ever closer.

"Get behind me, Sylvia," Rey whispered. The little girl didn't have to be told twice and she bolted behind him, clutching his pant leg.

"When you can, make a run for it."

Sylvia pulled at his clothing and he looked at her for a second. She was shaking her head, signaling that she didn't want to leave him.

"He already hurt you once. I'm not giving him another chance to," Rey said firmly.

He was deathly afraid, but he wanted to protect her.

"Now _run_, Sylvia."

The little girl took off to the top of the stairs and stood still, afraid to leave Rey with her father.

The ghost turned his head and started to lunge after the girl.

Rey tackled his midsection and wasn't surprised that the taller man didn't budge. Rey did wind the man for a second before he was caught by the throat.

Rey was covered on his neck and upper body by his shirt and jacket, his hands by his gloves, his lower body by pants and shoes. And his face was now protected by his mask.

Rey gripped onto the ghost's wrists with his gloved hands, and was lifted several feet off the floor.

"If you think I'm not used to being tossed around, you've got another thing coming," Rey growled and hoisted his legs, kicking the ghost hard in the windpipe until he was forced to throw Rey into a wall.

Rey hit his spine and flinched, struggling back to his feet.

"Don't even think about…touching Sylvia," Rey said menacingly.

The girl stared at him from the top of the stairs. She'd never seen someone that wasn't absolutely terrified by her father.

The ghost looked back and forth between Rey on the right and his daughter on the left. He took off after Sylvia, who froze in terror.

Rey bolted and grabbed the girl, dodging the axe just barely with a roll to the side. He didn't have time to stand up as the ghost lifted the axe again. They were at the top of the stairs and the only way to go was down.

Rey felt Sylvia clutch at him tight and he took a breath and kicked off.

He crashed down a flight with a few brutal cracks against his body.

Rey coughed when they hit a landing.

He'd managed to shield Sylvia in his arms. The girl broke his embrace and tried to urge him to stand up.

He couldn't. He'd hit all of his limbs and joints on the way down and the pain paralyzed him. He lifted his big brown eyes to hers.

"Sylvia, get out of here."

She stared at him and shook her head urgently and pulled at his sleeve to get him to get up.

"Go. Just go, baby girl. I'll be fine," he wheezed.

She knew he wouldn't be, he was out of breath and hurt terribly, she just knew it. Her father would kill him if she left.

She shook her head "no" to leaving him.

He heard her father slowly, menacingly setting his foot down one step at a time. He was taking his time, toying with Rey.

Rey pulled himself to his feet, wincing as he did so.

He set his hand on Sylvia's head and guided her behind him.

"You have to run, Sylvia, you have to," Rey rasped.

Sylvia clutched onto his leg, wrapping her little body around him. She wouldn't leave him.

He stepped back towards the edge of the landing as the ghost stepped slowly downwards. Rey swallowed apprehensively and met the ghost's eyes. But he knew he had nothing going for him. The ghost was taller, bigger, and stronger, had no life to lose, had an axe where Rey was unarmed, had the high ground, and had no one to protect.

And he'd killed his own family. Why not kill a stranger?

Rey was trembling.

"Sylvia, run and hide behind the couch. Go."

His voice was so full of parental authority that the girl finally obeyed him and turned and ran. The ghost came at Rey at a run and Rey dodged the axe, which struck a wall.

But then the ghost picked him up and smashed him down onto the landing's hardwood.

Rey scrambled, trying to stand, but was unable to.

Sylvia's father picked him up by the throat and, like a rag doll, threw him the rest of the way down the stairs.

Rey rolled out of it as best he could, but hit the back of his skull against the floor.

He gasped and lay twitching in aching, head-splitting pain.

"Oh…" he moaned softly, agonized.

Rey shuddered and tried to sit up, but he couldn't.

Sylvia ran to him, setting her hand on his covered cheek as he struggled to breathe.

"Go…please…" Rey begged her, but she wouldn't.

She buried herself into his chest. As he saw her father stepping towards them he tried to get her to break away from him and run, but she had a death grip around his waist.

He set his arms around her as best he could to guard her.

Rey shut his eyes.

For a moment he thought he heard running footsteps.

He opened his eyes to see Batista chasing Sylvia's father up the stairs. The Animal was even bulkier than her father, but no taller.

Batista tackled the ghost somewhere upstairs and throttled at him.

Rey stared up from where he lied on his back, seeing Dave sometimes and sometimes the ghost. Batista caught the handle of the axe in his hands and wrestled it out of the ghost's grip.

Rey struggled to sit up, but a jolt of pain in his spine made him lie back down.

_Punk said that evil ghosts can be summoned with thoughts…maybe we can make him disappear with thoughts._

Rey closed his eyes.

Sylvia shook him, fearful that he wouldn't wake up.

"I'm fine, Sylvia. I'm just trying to will your father away."

As he said that he looked at her and got an idea.

"Baby girl, you have to help me do that."

Sylvia blinked at him, her little hands on his chest as she sat on her knees.

He reached up and set a gloved hand onto her cheek.

"Sylvia, don't be afraid of him any more. Fearing him keeps him here. We have to send him away."

Sylvia looked shakily up at her father at the top of the stairs and back at Rey, worry in her eyes.

Rey murmured to her. "Don't be afraid. Dave and I will protect you. Think about that."

Sylvia looked at him desperately, not knowing how to send her father away.

Rey exhaled. "Close your eyes."

Sylvia closed her eyes. Rey brushed his fingers through her hair.

"Think about good things. Your mother. Your little starling skull. Your garden."

Rey closed his own eyes. He felt Sylvia lay down against his side, leaning her head on his heart. She replaced his hand back onto her head and he smiled softly.

_Angie…Dominik…Aalyah…Dave…_Rey thought of all of his friends and family. He thought of Sylvia.

_I'm not afraid of you…_

He felt cold suddenly, like the floor was made of dry ice. It wasn't coming from Sylvia. He was positive that the cold was emanating straight from the floor. From the house itself. He knew instinctively that it was paranormal, it was an evil spirit causing it. The house had been tainted by Sylvia's father.

He heard an ethereal growling.

"Dave, are you there?" Rey called, worried by the sound.

"I'm-I'm in the middle of something, Rey, I'll be down there in a second!" Batista said, tackling the ghost again.

"Dave, you have to try to will the ghost away!" Rey called.

"What nonsense are you spouting now?!" Batista demanded.

"Just do it, Dave! You have to think that you aren't afraid of Sylvia's father! Keep thinking that and we can make him go away!"

Batista growled deep in his throat. "I. Am _not_. Afraid."

He didn't have to think about it long to make it convincing.

Sylvia's father backed up, startled.

The minute Batista saw that the ghost had thrown his precious Rey-Rey down the stairs he was ready to take on an entire army. He felt nothing but raging hatred towards the ghost.

He couldn't be afraid of Sylvia's father if he tried.

Rey squeezed his eyes shut, thinking.

_I don't need to be afraid of you with Dave here. You will never get through him. I'm putting all of my faith in him, and he won't fail me. I know he won't. _

Rey tensed up and Sylvia felt his heartbeat get stronger.

_I'm not afraid of you anymore. _

_All I need is my family and friends. _

_All I need is one friend with me to help me through. _

_And you are out of luck, I have Dave with me._

_But you…you worthless piece of trash…you hurt your own daughter. Your own wife._

Rey felt a deep anger in his stomach towards the man. He would kill himself sooner than hurt his family.

Sylvia's father screamed as an incredible burn came aching out of the floor.

Rey gasped and shut his eyes tight. Somehow he knew what he was doing.

He felt his energy leaking out from him through the floor, just as the ghost's evil cold had, but frighteningly stronger.

_You hurt your family. I will hurt you. _

Sylvia felt Rey using all of his energy at once, and knew that somehow, his heart was leaking through the walls, flooding the entire building with his inner warmth. If Rey's power was a color, it was a rich, sumptuous red. It soaked through the floor, doused the furniture, and took over every single thing there.

He grunted with the effort as the floor around Sylvia's father was the last thing for him to take over. He couldn't manage it alone. Not there. Sylvia's father was using all of his energy just to maintain a small barrier around himself.

Rey's power was dripping from the ceiling, rising up like floodwater out of the floor, running down the walls, he so thoroughly possessed it. But he couldn't close in on that barrier.

Batista stared, transfixed. If one looked through his eyes, everything had become red. At first he was frightened because it looked like blood, but then he realized what it was. He felt it all around him, brushing past him softly, utilizing him. It took a small piece of Dave's energy with it and was making everything drenched with scarlet.

"Rey…" Batista whispered.

He knew his friend's essence better than anyone else's.

From the moment Rey had set foot in the house, it had made him shudder and look around, nervous. It wasn't just the stories that he'd heard. Rey hadn't known it, but he actually sensed the aura of cold, dark evil coming from Sylvia's father.

The little ghost could manifest in the house, but she wasn't strong enough to leave her mark there or rule it as he could. Sylvia's father was like a blue force, touching the house, making it icy and menacing. But even Sylvia's father had only been able to make sections of the house seem gray, and lost and dangerous.

Rey was able to overtake the whole thing within moments.

Sylvia looked at Rey in awe and knew that he would protect her, and that he could, if she helped him. She hugged him tightly and shut her eyes.

A deluge of red splashed down from the ceiling onto the ghost of Sylvia's father, and swirls of red liquid-like material rose up from the ground, rushing, filling up his barrier like blood in a glass.

The ghost flailed around, trying to take over at least his barrier again, but it was no use, and the cylinder barrier that was his filled to the top with red liquid and then burst open like an overfilled aquarium.

The ghost lay on the floor, twitching, spent. He was helpless and fading into the afterlife.

Batista narrowed his eyes and snorted when he stood over it.

He stomped it square in the temple and it vanished. Sylvia's father was vanquished.

Rey heard Dave finish him off.

"My hero…" Rey rasped sarcastically to Sylvia, who giggled.

He swallowed and let go. All of a sudden the red drained back, rushed back towards Rey, and was sucked up back into him. To Rey it felt like taking a deep breath after surfacing from the ocean. And he felt exceedingly light-headed, like a door inside his body had opened and was closing slowly.

Batista ran down the stairs, his footsteps heavy, like a Clydesdale horse. He gazed at his friend in disbelief as he saw the red liquid sink into flat color and become absorbed by Rey's body.

Sylvia had been right. There was a lot of power in Rey's heart; more than in Batista's entire body.

A small puddle of ruby red went back into the ghost girl's soul.

Rey's eyes fluttered open.

"Dave…?"

"What is it, Rey? I'm right here," Batista said, kneeling down beside his friend and elevating Rey's head onto his lap.

"You saved my life," Rey murmured, blinking tiredly.

Batista smiled. "Any time, Rey."

He paused. "Rey, please tell me you saw that you made the house flood with blood red…stuff."

Rey smiled. "I didn't know I could do that."

"Did you see it? It was incredible, what you did."

Rey laughed a little. "I felt it. It felt…interesting. It felt good. Sylvia added to it just when I needed her. Right at the right time."

He beamed at her proudly and the little girl grinned happily back at him. There was a flood in Rey's soul, an absolute waterfall. And the waterfall was thanking the sweet little bucket of water that Sylvia's soul had for the few extra drops.

"Was that your…your soul?"

Rey blinked sleepily. "I don't know. I just know that it was something inside me. And it went back in. I wonder how long it's been in there."

He stared down at Sylvia.

She was staring back up at him. They searched one another's eyes.

"I wish you could speak to me and explain what just came out of me, Sylvia," he whispered.

The little girl laid her head back down against him and hugged him.

Rey patted her back.

"I think it was a part of my soul, Dave. I don't know what else it could have been."

"Why was it red, Rey?" Batista asked awkwardly. "Are you way more morbid than I think you are?"

Rey smiled, a little embarrassed. "It's for love, Dave, red is for love."

Sylvia nodded, smiling.

Batista sighed and shook his head. "You're pretty damn romantic, then, aren't you?"

Rey laughed. "Well, I guess so."

Batista looked at Sylvia a little resentfully.

"Rey, I can't believe you protected a dead girl over defending yourself. You got tossed down the stairs for her."

Rey smiled weakly. "Sorry…it was my instinct."

Batista exhaled through his nose.

Rey chuckled. "Sorry, Dave."

Batista looked at Rey's sugar-coated smile and rolled his eyes. "You're crazy."

Rey chuckled. "Probably."

"Are you hurt?"

"Ah…no, no." Rey murmured and sat up.

"Rey…" Batista sighed. "Your sleeve is torn and your arm is bleeding."

Rey blinked and saw his wound. "I…I didn't feel that at all."

Batista raised his eyebrows. "You're joking, right? He cut you with an axe and you didn't feel it?"

Batista reached out and touched the edge of the cut. Rey winced.

"Well, I feel it when you poke at me like that, yeah."

"But at the time, I didn't feel any pain, just like a rush of air on my arm. I was trying to keep him from touching Sylvia; I couldn't check and see why air would be blowing through my shirt sleeve."

"Rey, we need to get that wrapped up."

"Okay…"

Rey looked at Sylvia, who was sitting nearby, looking concernedly at her friend.

Rey smiled sadly. "Baby girl, I told you…"

Sylvia looked up at him.

"You're better off with Dave. He's stronger than me."

Sylvia shook her head and dove into Rey's chest, hugging him gratefully.

Dave looked at Rey and smiled softly. "She only has eyes for you."

Rey hugged the girl. "God only knows why."

Dave sighed. "You're like a father to her, Rey. Like a better father."

Rey blinked at Dave and looked at the girl in his arms.

Sylvia smiled up at him and nodded.

Rey stroked her hair gratefully, in awe of that thought.

"Thank you."


	20. Sylvia

**Oh, MAN. Don't get me started. I know I haven't updated in forever but there were reasons. My computer was REAALLY old (okay, like 7 years) and it's a desktop and it's technically my parents computer, and we had to replace it because it was loaded with viruses. That's why I haven't updated yet. Boatloads of things had to be re-installed or whatever on this new computer and luckily I didn't lose any of my writing. **

**My Girl Wednesday, thanks for the review! I'm glad that you liked the ghost story aspect because I was worried that would make this fic too weird. (What? A ghost and some wrestlers? Is futo on crack?) And I agree, Cena steals the show kind of, he's so ridonculous. LOL. **

**Grazie mille Hera619!**

**Emono, alethea293, thanks!!!!**

**And to all of my reviewers that review every single chapter, I LOVE YOU!!! **

Chapter 20: Sylvia

Day Six at the Haunted House

Batista treated and bandaged Rey's arm. It was late in the afternoon now and Sylvia looked like she was still bursting with energy. She was bouncing up and down and then rocking back and forth on her feet, waiting for Rey to get finished.

When his bandages were finally ready, Sylvia grabbed his gloved hand and yanked at him to follow her.

Rey stood up and walked carefully, tiredly after her. Batista followed closely, guarding his friend and love interest.

Just as they were standing in the living room downstairs, Rey thought to ask Sylvia where they were headed.

"Baby girl…we're going back outside, aren't we?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Into the woods?"

The apprehension in his voice was audible.

Batista frowned, "Rey, you don't have to go if you don't want to."

Rey shook his head.

"Why did you disappear and scream out there?"

Sylvia looked at him desperately, wanting to talk, but unable to.

Rey went and got Punk's notepad and pen. He sat down exhaustedly onto the couch.

"Please write down why you left me and then screamed like that the other night."

Sylvia took the things.

_Papa killed Mama._

Rey started at the forwardness of the message.

Batista came and sat beside Rey, tucking his arm around his shoulder. Rey felt comforted by this.

The luchador went on. "And…is she…is your mother out in the woods?"

Sylvia gulped back tears and nodded, but she still wrote.

_Mama's buried out there in the trees._

Rey shut his eyes and covered his mouth.

Batista squeezed Rey's shoulder. "It's okay, Rey-Rey," he whispered.

Rey nodded, encouraged. "I…I am so sorry, Sylvia."

Sylvia smiled sadly up at him.

"But why did you scream, sweetheart?"

_I ran too far ahead. Papa wandered around the woods every night before you made him go away tonight. _

"So your father was out there?"

The girl nodded.

"Did he hurt you?" Rey asked, his voice flooded with worry.

Sylvia smiled sadly and shook her head.

_I ran. I am sorry I had to leave you. _

Rey shook his head. "Oh no, baby girl. That's all right. Dave here came and got me. I was safe. I'm just happy that you weren't hurt."

Sylvia nodded.

"Is your mother…she was why you wouldn't pass away, wasn't she, Sylvia?"

The girl's face streamed with happy tears and she nodded, glad that someone finally understood.

"Your mother was murdered and even after you died, all you wanted was for people to know where to find her…" Rey choked on his voice and failed to blink back all of his tears.

Batista's eyes were wet too, but he cuddled Rey.

Rey wiped his eyes and swallowed. "Thanks, Dave."

Batista nodded silently.

"If we find your mother, will you be able to rest, Sylvia? Is that all that we have left to do?"

Sylvia nodded finally.

Rey nodded. "All right. I can we can do that for you. Dave, could you grab a flashlight and something to mark the trees with?"

Batista got the flashlight but was at a loss about the other request.

"Like what?"

"Like a marker. Like a white marker. Jeff always carries a pencil bag with colored markers in it on trips."

Batista sighed. "You know all our secrets, don't you?"

Rey smiled softly. "Maybe."

Batista found a white paint marker. "This looks like it'll do the job."

Rey nodded.

"That's perfect. Let's go."

Sylvia led the way.

They walked outside and went to the edge of the forest.

"The lady on the stairs really was her mother, wasn't it?" Batista whispered to Rey, not wanting Sylvia to hear a discussion over her mother's murder.

"I hope we're right to think so," Rey whispered back. "That would explain a lot if she was."

Rey was tired but he seemed to be animated by something that often did keep him going on the road or during a match. Rey had endurance beyond physical endurance. He could continue a wrestling match long after even someone much larger than himself (such as Batista) had to quit.

Batista marked the trunks of every tree that they passed on the left side of him. Finally, after walking for what seemed like an eternity, Sylvia came to a halt. She looked around and checked some landmarks. She was in the right place.

She pointed to the ground at a certain spot. It was covered in leaves just like everywhere else. Rey knelt down on all fours and started to brush the piles away. Batista lit the flashlight and held it up so Rey could see. It was getting dark in the forest under the shade of all the trees and in the fading light of dusk.

Rey cleared a huge oval of dirt free of leaves, always being led by Sylvia. She walked around the edges of the grave and when he came to her feet he knew he could stop brushing.

Rey sat back and looked down at it.

"Mama," Sylvia mouthed.

Rey nodded, understanding.

She took his hand in hers and tugged at it.

He stood up and knelt down in a different location.

"Papa," she mouthed.

He stared at her.

"Dave…Sylvia's telling me her father is buried out here, too."

"My God…" Batista said. "That explains what happened to him. Nobody ever found him, did they?"

Rey looked at his friend. "No, he just vanished. I guess he…" Rey pulled Sylvia close to him and muffled her ears in his hands. "He must have killed his wife, buried her out here…and then killed Sylvia years later. And he ran from the scene and killed himself out here."

Rey was afraid to dig around anywhere near the area where Sylvia had pointed to. He suspected he might find gruesome, old bones on the ground, not far from the cover of the leaves.

Rey spied a rock a little ways away. "Dave, could you pick that up and move it over here?"

Batista obliged.

"How do we mark these?" Batista asked quietly. "We need people to distinguish these as something more important than just rocks."

"I don't know," Rey admitted.

He looked around and saw another rock. Dave went to it and picked it up, grunting a little as he set it beside the burial site. It was about a foot and a half tall, and from the looks of it, quite heavy.

"What marks have you been putting on the trees, Dave?"

"Dashes, like…like on a treasure map," Batista said quietly.

"Then could you put an x on here, please?" Rey requested.

Batista nodded and shook up the paint marker, putting a huge, thick x across the entire rock so that no matter how many leaves piled up on it, part of the white mark would still remain visible as long as the rock was visible. He did the same to the other one.

He clicked the cap back on and looked at Rey.

He had gone over to the ghost girl, who was sobbing uncontrollably at the side of her mother's no longer unmarked grave.

"Sylvia, look at me," Rey said softly.

The girl gazed up at him, her eyes blurry with tears.

"You said you know the story of Hansel and Gretel, right?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Remember how they left breadcrumbs to find their way back?"

Sylvia nodded again.

"That's what we did for your mother. We marked the trees as we walked here and when the police come, they'll be able to follow the trail to her. They'll know how she died."

He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying.

"I don't know if you know this, baby girl, but your body is buried in a cemetery."

Sylvia stopped crying and stared at him.

"And your mother…when they find her, Sylvia, I promise I will tell them to bury her right next to you," Rey said, choking slightly.

There were tears in his eyes.

"All right? You and your mother will be buried together."

Sylvia ran into his legs and he sat down and hugged her.

"Shh…it's okay. It's okay."

Sylvia didn't feel cold all of a sudden. And then she felt lighter and lighter. Batista blinked in disbelief and Rey squeezed his eyes shut, knowing somehow what was happening.

The ghost girl was fading away.

And then she was faded away.

And then Rey felt nothing.

Rey looked down at his empty hands. "She's gone."

Batista looked at his friend sadly.

A tear rolled down Rey's cheek and he didn't brush it away.

"Just like that, she's gone…"

_Rey?_

It was a little girl's voice, unmistakably. It sounded like bells, bright and glorious.

Rey started and turned around.

Batista gasped.

Before them was a glowing little girl, the same glowing little girl, only now she was whole again. She had her voice back. She beamed a smile at them.

"Sylvia…is that you?" Rey whispered.

There was a woman behind her, a beautiful, tall woman with matching blonde hair and less clear blue eyes. She was smiling as well.

_It is me, Rey, _the girl assured him.

Rey blinked, surprised to see her again.

"Is this…is this your mother?"

_Yes,_ the woman confirmed.

"Oh. Hello."

The woman smiled warmly at him. _I owe you my thanks for returning my daughter to me. And for finding my final resting place._

Rey nodded. "I….um, yes. You're welcome. Of course," Rey smiled. "It was…it was my honor to help you."

Sylvia raced over and hugged him warmly.

Rey bent down again and took her into his arms.

Batista smiled at the sight of them.

He could have sworn that Sylvia had become Rey's daughter in these few days far more than she had ever been the child of her own father.

He rocked her for a minute and realized that she felt much more solid and heavy. She felt real. But she also felt…

Rey slipped off his gloves.

"You're warm now, Sylvia…" Rey said in awe, holding his hand against her cheek. She bent into his touch the same way she had the night he'd covered his palm with the blanket.

He smiled and she giggled.

_You have been a wonderful friend, Rey. _

He smiled. "Thank you. It's been a pleasure knowing you, sweetheart."

She held his hands in hers.

_You have friends in the afterlife, do you not?_

Rey smiled sadly. "Yes. I do."

Sylvia hugged him again.

_Would you like to tell them anything? I must go soon._

Rey bit his lip and closed his eyes quietly. "Please just tell them that I said hello. And that I love them."

Sylvia's mother nodded. _We shall tell them so. _

"Thank you so much," Rey said gratefully.

He hugged the little girl tight for the last time.

_I will miss you, Rey._

Rey smiled. "I'll miss you too, baby girl. But I will see you again some day."

_Goodbye…_

The girl came away from him and smiled brightly, stepping backwards towards her mother.

_And…thank you._

"Goodbye," Rey whispered.

And then they were gone, fading softly, like the glow of fireflies edging off into the distance.

Rey wiped his eyes.

"Let's go back inside," Batista said quietly.

"Yeah…" Rey nodded.

And they turned to leave.


	21. Snow

Chapter 21: Snow

Day Six at the Haunted House (Day Seven at Midnight)

Rey was utterly exhausted as he stumbled through the forest. Batista tucked the marker in his pocket.  
Rey sensed what was coming.

"Rey-Rey, let me give you a lift."

"I'm not four, I don't need anyone to carry me," Rey argued tiredly, dragging his feet.

Batista pursued his friend and Rey weaved in and out, becoming a moving target.

But he started panting after a while and could only manage a straight path.

Batista pounced on him and scooped him up into his arms like a bulldozer.

"Come on, you stubborn thing, you," Batista said.

"Dave, no, I can walk, put me down," Rey protested, squirming half-heartedly. His feet ached, his bones were sore, and after he'd been relieved of all of the paranormal stresses his body began to shut down into drowsiness.

He squirmed for a second more and Batista just held him closer.

Rey submitted because his head was spinning and his cut was sending spikes of pain through him. And Batista felt warm and soft. Rey let his head loll against his friend's thick, welcoming chest.

Batista carried Rey into their room and set the smaller man down onto his sleeping bag.

"Stay with me now, don't you pass out on me."  
Rey nodded. Batista got out the disinfectant spray and the bandages.

"Oh, God, that stings…" Rey said through clenched teeth as Batista applied the medication to his arm again.

Rey shuddered as blood ran down his arm, but the cut was already clotting.

Batista bandaged Rey's arm, careful not to make it too tight lest he cut off Rey's circulation.

"You want some Tylenol or something?"

"I guess," Rey answered and took some with a bottle of water Batista fetched for him.

Rey was still lying down when Batista got back with the water, and he knew that wasn't a good sign.

"Rey, are you all right? The ghost didn't touch your skin anywhere, did he?"

"No. I'm just tired, that's all."

"Rey, if you're lying, I-"

"I'm all covered up, Dave, how could he have touched me? Answer me that."

"You're not all covered up," Batista contradicted.

Rey exhaled in annoyance. "Do you not see this mask on my face? He couldn't have-"

Batista had set a fingertip on Rey's lips. He trailed it around them very gently.

Rey stopped talking and blushed profusely.

"Your lips," Batista said quietly. "And your eyes, too. They're both uncovered."

Rey turned away from Batista. "He didn't touch me, Dave, I swear to you."

"You're sure?"

"What, you think he kissed me?"

Batista shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just saying that there was a chance that he could have touched your eyelids or something when you weren't looking."

"Well, he didn't."

Rey was still turned away from Batista.

"Don't touch my mouth like that…you're scaring me," Rey muttered and pulled off his mask and set it down respectfully.

He turned back to Dave with a frown on his face.

"Sorry, Rey," Batista said sincerely.

"I'm not your toy, stop touching me everywhere like I am one."

Batista looked concerned by this remark. "Rey, I don't think you're a toy, I don't. I was…I was just…I'm sorry."

Rey struggled to his feet stubbornly, not wanting to be around Dave if the larger man was so clearly in the mood for love and Rey was never going to be, but he was getting increasingly drowsy…

He didn't want to be vulnerable around Batista anymore. He tried to walk out of the room, but he made it about two paces before shuddering.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm…dizzy. Really…dizzy…" Rey murmured and his eyelids fell.

"REY!" Batista yelped and caught his friend.

"I…I need to lie down," Rey whispered hoarsely.

"No shit," Batista told him and set Rey back down onto his sleeping bag, even lowering his head slowly onto the pillow.

"I'm sorry I touched you on the mouth. That was too intimate, I get it, I'm sorry. You don't have to get up and run from me when you're barely even conscious, okay?"

Rey swallowed and didn't answer.

"Rey, are you all right?"

Rey turned away again.

Batista set his hands on his hips and exhaled, exasperated. "What's the big deal, anyway? You kiss me on the cheek sometimes."  
"Shut up. That doesn't mean what you think it means. Get your mind out of the gutter," Rey whined.

Batista smirked, amused.

"Rey-Rey…" he crooned quietly. "Six one nine…"

"Leave me alone."

Batista blinked. That tone was much more serious."What's wrong?"

Rey shook his head. "No. Just get out."

"Get out of the-? Rey, no, I'm not abandoning you."

"Then stop touching me."

Batista gave a little sigh. "I'm sorry, Rey."

"What? Are lips not what a gay guy would consider an intimate body part?"

Batista stiffened. "I'm _not gay_."

"Right. You're just gay for _me_. Like Cena. Just my luck."

"You're just bringing him up because you like him better than me, don't you?" Batista asked resentfully.

"I don't like _any _of you that way. Get over yourself. I don't try to force _you_ to go date women or something; I could go off and try to make you be with all the Divas or I could guilt-trip you into feeling like you have to be straight. But I don't. Stop trying to make me feel guilty that I'm not gay."

Rey was really upset.

"Rey, I'm not trying to guilt you into-" he stopped himself. Rey was right. He was trying to convince Rey to love him, and seduction wasn't working, so he was preying on Rey's sense of kindness and hinting that he would be happy if only Rey would just let himself be taken, just for a little while.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was…I'm sorry."

Rey didn't answer and he wouldn't face Dave.

"Rey, please don't be mad at me. Please."

"Why do you like me anyway?" Rey asked quietly. "You couldn't find anybody else to drool over? Or is it just because I'm close to you?"

Batista stared at Rey's back in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

Batista twiddled his fingers. "You really don't know why I like you?"

"No. I do not. Do I want to know?"

Batista shrugged. "You want to hear the G-rated version?"

Rey sighed. "I don't know."

"I like the color of your skin. I like the kind of…dark chocolate eyes you have."

Rey rolled his eyes. "Why do you like me? Not 'why are you attracted to me'?" he said, frustrated.

Batista bit his lip. "I'm not very good with words, Rey, I can't explain that. I can't explain why I…why I want to be with you."

Rey sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"I know," Rey said a little bitterly. But he swallowed. "I…I'm going to go take a bath."

Batista silently helped Rey to his feet and watched Rey gather some pajamas. He followed the luchador carefully as he tottered over to the bathroom and closed the door.

Batista exhaled and went to sit back in the living room for a while.

Rey didn't wash his wounded arm on the cut. He scrubbed manically all over his body, not knowing why he felt like he did. He was so worried about Batista. And he felt intimidated by Dave's advances.

He felt lost.

Even after he nearly scrubbed his skin raw he didn't want to get out of the bath just yet. With his wounded arm dangling over the side, he sat there morosely. Soaking.

"What am I supposed to do…?" he muttered to himself. "Should I…I don't want to hurt him. I don't."

Rey sat there for minutes on end, and decided not to think about Batista.

"Don't think about him. Think about anything else. Anything else at all…"

He remembered Batista bandaging his finger and being so worried about him. But then he remembered that Dave had gone out into the woods to find him.

Rey's first instinct was to become defensive again at the thought of what he saw as Batista being overtly possessive again. But as he sat there all the anger soaked out of him. He looked at the facts and realized that Batista had seen the woman on the stairs immediately before he had come out into the woods to find Rey. It wasn't his urge to possess Rey that sent him out there. It was his urge to protect him.

Rey sighed. "I misunderstood then. Maybe I'm misunderstanding now…"

He thought of Batista fingering his lips and swallowed. But he separated himself from his personal, awkward, embarrassed feelings towards the gesture.

Dave had done that just to prove a point that Rey's lips and eyes were uncovered and since Sylvia's father had definitely been a malevolent spirit and definitely been trying to kill or harm Rey, he might have known that his touch was like freezer burn to living people and he might have tried to use it as a weapon. Dave had a legitimate reason to be concerned. Rey had already nearly succumbed to freezing to death twice on this little adventure. And Rey had been so preoccupied with trying to protect Sylvia that he might not have noticed a prick of frostbite from the ghost.

Rey sighed. "You jump to conclusions. He may be a hothead and he may be too…grabby with you, but he's still protective of you. What is the likelihood that he's more harmful than protective?"

Rey considered that. He added up the most extreme of Batista's actions. When he'd gripped Rey's arm hard enough to cause bruising. That was definitely something an abuser would do. They wanted their victim at all costs and they wanted to steer and control that victim.

Rey gulped. He didn't want to be bruised that way again.

But he considered that Dave had apologized and had said he didn't know he'd done that. And Rey knew that a serious, unrepentant abuser would abuse again, and wouldn't apologize for hurting someone. They would threaten to hurt again. They wouldn't have that look of honest surprise on their face like Dave had had. They wouldn't touch him tenderly and apologize.

Besides, Batista had gotten therapy early when he was just showing signs of becoming possessive. He had gotten help before he had started showing too many symptoms.

Rey exhaled in relief. It was less likely that someone who had agreed to get help for their issues would abuse again than if they refused to admit they had done anything wrong. Batista had been visibly very upset over hurting Rey. And he had let Rey cease talking to him for a whole day. He'd never cornered the luchador to force him to talk to him. Batista had reacted like a calm, considerate person, letting Rey get some space and then when he finally needed to talk to Rey, he had been gentle and apologetic. An abuser would have slammed him against the wall and demanded to be talked to.

Rey drew up his knees to him in the waist-deep water. His toes were getting thick and wrinkly with moisture but he still didn't want to get out of the tub.

He considered the previous night when he and Batista had slept very close to each other. Rey blushed at the thought of it. He couldn't have helped that. He would have succumbed to hypothermia if it wasn't for Dave lending his body heat. He knew that. He'd felt sick and very tired and every bit of him had ached that night. If Batista hadn't forced Rey to come close and be held like that then Rey might not have lived long.

Rey withdrew his hand from the bathwater and looked at it. It was prune-y and sopping wet. He sighed.

"I don't know. I just don't know."

_You do, though._

_He's more protective. _

_Admit it to yourself. If you'd been in his position, you would have kissed you so fast; you wouldn't even have been able to shout anything._

Rey buried his face in his knees miserably. "I had no choice; I would have frozen to death. I didn't want to tempt him."

_There's nothing to be sad about. He didn't touch you. He didn't even kiss you on the mouth. You were delirious, half-naked and at one point, full naked. He never even kissed you._

Rey blinked and sat up. Batista had never laid a hand on him. All night, sleeping right with temptation in his arms, Batista had never tried to make love to Rey.

_He cares about you. He wants to protect you more than he wants to have you. _

_What more proof do you need other than that night? He spent the whole night with you and you were perfectly safe. _

Rey got out of the bath finally and dried himself off, sitting with the towel around his waist and watching the water slurp down the drain. He pretended to have washed off some of his negative thoughts into the water. And now they were draining away.

He sighed when the water disappeared and the tub was empty again. The image helped him clear his mind.

He stepped into some boxers and some pajama bottoms.

When he opened the door Batista looked up from his seat on the couch. "Hey, Rey."

"Hey."

Rey stood there kind of awkwardly and fingered his bandages. "I…Dave, I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I was being oversensitive earlier about you…touching my mouth. But…next time you try to prove a point, could you try not to be so physical with me? I mean, you trailed your fingertip around my lips. That was…that was just too close for comfort. Okay?"

Batista nodded. "It won't happen again, Rey, I promise."

Rey swallowed and sat down on the couch next to Dave. "So…you got the fire going."

"Yeah," Batista confirmed.

"Where is everybody?"

"Running around outside. It started snowing."

Rey looked discreetly at his skin. He was getting goose bumps from the cold. "I should have packed warmer. I didn't bring pajama tops."

Batista shrugged. "It's not your fault; you're used to California weather. How could you know that it would snow up here in the fall?"

Rey sighed. "Yeah, I guess I couldn't know something like that."

Batista got up for a second and when he came back he had Rey's blanket. He set it around his friend's shoulders.

"Maybe you should get closer to the fire," he advised gently.

Rey nodded and gratefully clutched the blanket closed around him. "In a minute."

He turned around on the couch and looked out the window.

"It is snowing."

"Please don't go out in that, that would be even worse on you than the rain…" Batista groaned, exhausted.

Rey smiled. "I won't. But I can look."

Batista looked at Rey watching the snow fall.

A kind of serenity had settled over him as he witnessed the flakes drift down from the sky. His big brown eyes looked softer and he'd hid his mouth in the crook of his arm. His body expanded and contracted gently with calmed air. He blinked slowly and seemed to see every last snowflake in the sky. The white flickers danced their reflections in his large, dark eyes and Batista was mesmerized by the sight of it.

"It's hard to believe something like that is real, it's so beautiful," Rey said quietly.

"Snow is pretty," Batista agreed softly. But he wasn't talking about the snow.

He waited a moment.

"Hey, Rey?"

"Mmm?" Rey said sleepily.

"I like you because of moments like this."

Rey looked at him, his face blank with surprise and then he smiled.

"I like that reason better than 'I like your eyes'."

"Why? You don't like your eyes?" Batista asked cutely.

"They're too dark."

Batista chuckled. "Why do you say that?"

"They're almost black. Even I can barely see the brown in them sometimes."

Batista shrugged. "I guess mine are a little lighter brown."

Rey glanced at Batista, who squeezed his eyes shut.

Rey laughed. "Hey, no fair."

Batista opened them again.

Rey shuffled a little closer and looked deep into his friend's eyes.

"Yeah. Yours are lighter."

Rey sat back onto his perch against the back of the couch.

"Do you want to trade?" Batista teased.

"Maybe if I could," Rey answered, smiling.

**

Everyone came in a couple minutes later and they drank hot chocolate together.

Rey kept himself huddled up in a blanket and he stayed instinctively close to Batista. He didn't know why, he still seemed very shy around the other man, but he seemed to want to feel comfortable with him again as fast as possible.

Batista sensed this and when everyone else had gone to sleep and Rey was debating how close he should lay his sleeping bag next to Batista's the Animal knew he had to say something.

"Rey?"

Rey looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"I don't mind if you want to sleep a little further away from me tonight. You don't need to force yourself into being close to me again just yet. I understand that that made you feel…shy, having to be so close to me last night."

Rey looked at him with his big doe eyes. "It…yeah, it did."

"Then don't force yourself, buddy. Why are you lying down to me so close now? You don't have to; you won't hurt my feelings if you sleep a little ways away," Batista assured him sweetly.

"Dave?"

"Yeah, Rey?"

"Can I- could you…um, could you hold me?"

Batista blinked. "What?"

He thought for sure he'd misheard that. It was too good to be true.

"I feel…I feel cold again," Rey confessed. "That's why I'm…getting close to you again."

Batista reached out and set the back of his hand onto Rey's forehead.

"You are chilly. Come here."

Rey nodded and lay down. Batista shifted closer to him but Rey didn't budge, he was too embarrassed that he'd admitted to needing Batista's body heat.

"Rey, come here," Batista murmured and set his hand on Rey's lower back, pulling him closer. He wanted Rey to scoot the rest of the way towards him, which wasn't even an inch.

Rey was blushing profusely.

"I-maybe I should just…put on some more clothes or something, maybe we shouldn't-"

"Rey," Batista said, setting a finger on Rey's lips again, silencing him immediately.

"Sorry to touch your mouth again, but…I'm not very good with words."

Rey swallowed. "That's…it's okay."

Rey stared up at him with his big doe eyes, so vulnerable. He was shivering terribly now.

"I promise I won't do anything to you."

Rey swallowed.

"Don't touch me below my waist, okay?" he pleaded.

"I won't," Batista promised him.

Rey hesitated one more second before scooting closer and laying his temple against Batista's warm chest. He was tense and afraid of Dave's attraction to him.

He shuddered as his body made contact with his friend's hot form.

"Oh, God, I'm so cold…" Rey admitted, rubbing his temple against Batista's chest, trying to get himself to stop shivering.

Batista used all of his willpower to think flaccid thoughts and managed to prevent his arousal.

This position was almost too much to take; it was Rey on his side, with both his beautiful behind and his crotch vulnerable.

Batista wanted to reach down and stroke Rey's manhood until it was hard as a rock and then see how rough Rey would allow him to be before he came.

He felt the hardness of Rey's nipples again and all of the muscles in his torso pressing tight against his own thick, strong body. He had no clue how this was failing to arouse Rey, but forgave him that because Rey seemed delirious at the moment.

But Rey wasn't so delirious that he wasn't still aware of Batista's hot breath coming in shakes, like he was drooling over the luchador and barely restraining himself.

"Dave, please don't…" Rey whimpered, shaking.

Batista gulped down his own lust and wrapped Rey tightly up into the blanket. He cared for Rey too much to scare him off by losing control now of all times. If he resisted Rey once, then he could do it again.

He pulled the sleeping bag over and unzipped it, turning it into a comforter.

He laid it over Rey, who murmured appreciatively.

"I'm not gonna touch you…" Batista whispered, trailing his fingers down Rey's cheek.

Rey breathed and arched into the touch. He was half-asleep; he wasn't fully aware of how responsive he was being to Batista.

Batista rubbed Rey's back and with the fire, the blankets and sleeping bags, and the body heat, Rey became warmer. He also became woozier and was almost entirely unconscious.

"Does that feel better?" Batista purred as he massaged Rey's shoulder blades under the covers.

"Yeah…" Rey whispered, snuggling closer to Dave in his delirium.

Batista caressed his friend's face and saw his eyes slowly close as he drifted off.

His mouth opened slightly and Batista resisted the urge to stick his tongue in and ravage Rey's mouth with his own.

He set his hand on Rey's waist and rubbed his hip bone a hundred different ways until Rey brought his pelvis closer to Batista's, he was so mesmerized by the touch.

Batista needed to relieve at least some of his lust after that movement.

He kissed Rey's forehead for a long time, pretending that the skin was his mouth.

Rey exhaled in his sleep.

"These aren't below your waist, but I know what you meant, so I'll leave them alone," Batista whispered, fingering Rey's lips.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

Rey didn't say anything. He was sound asleep now.

"I wasn't sure. But if I don't even have to have sex with you for you to steal my heart like this then that's gotta be what I feel."

Rey breathed in his sleep.

"You hear me, Rey? I love you."

Batista stroked Rey's soft, youthful face and Rey leaned into the touch, cat-like.

Batista whispered "I love you" so softly that it barely left his lips at all.

Rey sighed peacefully.

He was dreaming about the snow, but in his dream he was wrapped up warm in coats and mittens and a scarf and a hat. He was sitting out on the top porch steps of the old house and watching it fall to the ground.

Rey hadn't seen a lot of snow in his life.

He was happy.


	22. A Cat Fight or a Dog Fight?

Chapter 22: A Catfight or a Dogfight?

Day Seven at the Haunted House

In the morning, Batista felt extremely refreshed and energetic. Like he could take on the world. He didn't know why he felt so good when he hadn't even been able to sleep with Rey, only sleep beside him. But as he stared down at his friend, who was still curled up at his side and breathing peacefully, a silent smile stretched across his face.

He was relieved because he had finally seen proof that Rey trusted him more than any of the other guys. Subconsciously, Rey was aware of the degree of each man's feelings for him and he knew that although Dave's were the strongest, but they were also the most dedicated. He knew that he was safest with Batista because of all of the guys Batista was the one who didn't crave just sex. He craved a relationship. Batista wanted to maintain the bond he already shared with Rey so that he could build on it and strengthen it and hope to one day convince Rey to see him as a lover and not as a friend.

And Batista felt honored that Rey had placed that kind of trust in him to allow the possibility of Batista overpowering him in his delirium. Rey had taken a leap of faith and decided to trust Batista's friendship more than his attraction.

It had paid off and Rey was comforted that Batista was not so out of control that he couldn't restrain himself when Rey needed him most.

Batista felt empowered, like his lust wasn't the only thing that could conquer him anymore. He was proud that he'd proven to Rey that he was safe to be around. He knew that Rey liked to be physical with people and he would feel highly uncomfortable if he had to worry about monitoring his movements around Batista. Now he knew he wouldn't have to.

Batista looked down at Rey, his elbow up and his head propped in that palm.

Rey was beginning to stir now.

"Unnh…could we just lay still for a few more minutes…?" Rey groaned, half-asleep.

Batista smiled and lay down again.

He felt like he was married to the other man and that they'd woken up in the same bed together.

Rey shuffled over and used Dave's bare chest as a pillow. He nodded off for a few more minutes.

Batista watched him blissfully and ran his fingers across Rey's scalp affectionately.

He didn't know why Rey was using his chest as a pillow, but he couldn't be happier that he was. He figured Rey wasn't conscious enough to realize the implications of his movements. He also knew that Rey was not a morning person and if he'd weighed more, he would have sat on Batista to make him stop rustling around while he was still trying to sleep.

As it was, Batista was grateful that Rey had gone for what he construed to be a much more interesting approach to making him sit still. And Batista thought about how lucky he was that he'd developed feelings for this particular straight guy out of all the ones in the world. Because Rey was certainly one of the most affectionate straight men towards his male friends that had ever lived.

Rey started and woke himself up. "Unnh…"

"All right, sleepy head, come on and sit up now," Batista crooned and packed his and Rey's pillows together behind the luchador's back to keep him sitting up.

"Once you get some coffee in your system you'll feel better."

Rey blinked drowsily and yawned.

Batista got up and returned with two cups. He handed one to Rey.

Rey traced the edges of the mug with his fingers. "Dave, I had a weird dream last night."

"A nightmare?" Batista asked, concerned.

Rey frowned. "I don't think so. I don't know what I'd say it was. It wasn't scary, it was sad."

"Do you want to tell me about it? Can you remember what it was about?"

Rey thought for a minute. "Something about…you leaving somewhere. You left WWE and went somewhere."

Batista raised an eyebrow. He was flattered that Rey had used the word 'sad' to describe a dream of him leaving. "Where else would I go? What was I planning on doing?"

"I don't know…I think you said something like… 'Rey, I'm going to go garden in Asia for a while.'"

Batista snorted. "_Gardening_?"  
"I told you it was a weird dream."

Batista sighed. "That is weird."

Rey took a sip of coffee and then stared at his cup for a little while. "Dave…you're not leaving, are you?"

Batista looked at Rey. "No. No, of course not. Why would I leave now?"

Rey shrugged.

_Because I'm tempting you too much. And you're too good of a friend to say that. _

Batista set down his cup. He gently removed Rey's cup from his fingers and set it down, too.

He leaned over and hugged Rey. "I'm not leaving you now. Just when you're finally feeling better after this whole ordeal…I couldn't leave you."

Rey squeezed him with his one unhurt arm.

"You won't?"

"No, of course not. Of course not, Rey-Rey."

When Batista leaned back from him, Rey was smiling weakly.

"Dave…thanks for not…touching me too much last night."

Batista shook his head. "No, you shouldn't thank me for that. You're injured like eight different ways, Rey; I wouldn't want to hurt you. It would have been unforgivable for me to touch you when you're in this state."

Rey nodded. "Well…thanks, though. I feel better today, anyway."

Batista touched Rey's forehead.

"Your temperature is back to normal."

He took his hand away.

"Rey, promise me you'll go see a doctor or at least one of the trainers after we get back. You might get a fever or you might still get hypothermia, I don't know. Plus your arm…"

Rey nodded. "I will. I'll go to a doctor."

Batista looked relieved. "Good."

They finished their coffee and got dressed, their backs turned towards one another.

Batista snuck a glimpse of Rey stepping into his jeans. Rey had a sweet, tight ass. It was curved just enough so that it was sinfully good-looking, making him appear that much more effeminate. It was the only truly curvaceous part of Rey's body. The rest of him was soft, flat, or muscular.

Batista turned back around reluctantly before Rey noticed he was being eyed.

The other guys all gradually woke up and looked at the two friends being at peace with each other, and felt reassured by that. Rey was like the mother hen of all of them, but if Batista wasn't happy, Rey wasn't either. He was upset when any of the other guys were sad, but not as much as when Batista was sad. None of them quite knew what Rey saw in him.

"I guess you proved that you don't like Cena better than me," Batista blurted.

Rey looked at him funny. "Cena, Cena, Cena. Why do you think I like him? You always think I like him sexually or something. Why him out of all the guys? I've never said I like Cena that way, and I've never said I like him better than you. Come to think of it, I've never told _you_ I like you sexually. So who's telling you all this?"

Batista twiddled his thumbs and Rey narrowed his eyes at him.

"Dave, who told you I liked Cena that way?"

"Shawn did," Batista admitted.

Rey's face went blank and then a torrent of emotion washed over it.

"Is _that_ what started the fight between you and Cena in the locker room the other day?" he demanded.

"Yeah, Rey-Rey, I know you ain't gay for nobody even though we all love you. I'm cool with that. I've made peace with it; you know what I'm saying? But yeah, dawg, Dave got all up in my face for no reason that day and then we just started clobberin' one another. It was wack, dawg, sorry," Cena explained.

"Yeah, I thought he was trying to shove it in my face that you liked him better than me," Batista confirmed.

The luchador narrowed his eyes at Shawn.

"You. Me. Outside. Now," Rey said icily.

He stood up abruptly and walked out the front door, slamming it violently.

Triple H winced. "This doesn't look good for you, Shawn."

"Karma catches up with you," Randy Orton said and nodded.

"Fuck you, you little twat," Shawn shot at him and walked out the door.

"Aw, damn, Rey-Rey's gonna kill him," Cena remarked. "Too bad all the damn cameras are dead now, I woulda loved to film this shit."

**

Rey was pacing in the field that was the front yard outside.

All of the guys came out and watched the standoff form.

"Shawn, was what Dave said the truth? You lied to him and said I like him and Cena romantically? And then you set them against each other by putting another lie on top of that by saying I preferred Cena?"

Shawn yawned. Rey's eye twitched angrily at HBK's nonchalance.

"This isn't funny Shawn."

HBK shrugged and grinned. "Oh, I disagree. It was very funny. Batista worked himself up into a big hot, sweaty mess over you. He couldn't stop drooling over you. You just added fuel to the fire."

"I-If I led him on, it was an accident!" Rey protested.

Shawn shrugged. "It doesn't matter now. You were the one who crawled into his arms last night, we all saw it."

Rey's eyes widened and he blushed. "You…you fucking _puto_! Shut your mouth or I'll-"

"Or you'll what, Rey?"

Rey glared so harshly at Shawn that his eyes looked like molten lava. Shawn was going to burn.

"That's right, you won't do anything," Shawn taunted. "Just sit there pretending to be a tough guy. Being pretty."

Rey growled. "Dave and I didn't do anything last night. Or any other night. EVER. Get that through your thick skull or I will _crack it_."

Rey tightened his fists.

"Apologize to me right now and I will go rip some trees in half instead of you."

Rey's fuse was a very, very lengthy one. He rolled with punches, took insults with a grain of salt and generally waited out storms of other people's anger with his calmness. He could watch someone else fizzle themselves to smithereens without once retaliating. No one knew where he'd developed his insane level of patience, but fatherhood had probably had something to do with it.

"You know what ticks me off about you, Rey?"

Rey groaned. "Oh, here it comes. I'm short? I'm Mexican? What? Spit it out."

"No matter what, you never leave anybody. It may not have occurred to you, mi amigo, but maybe some people do deserve to be left."

Rey flinched. "What?"

"Batista, for one."

Batista dropped his eyes forlornly.

"Why would I leave Dave?"

Batista started and picked his head back up.

"Because he's a hothead and he's madly in love with you and he's violent and insensitive. I'm sure you can add a few other bad qualities onto that list."

"Like I don't know all that stuff already. I repeat. _Why_ would I leave Dave?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "The man is stalking you, Rey. He's dangerous!"

"_No_, he's protective. And strong, and nice, and funny. He's a good person when he's not being stupid enough to believe your bullshit. No offense, Dave."

Batista sighed. "I had that coming."

"He's not stalking me," Rey went on. "He's not abusing me. You tried to convince me he was trying to hurt me! Why the hell would you do that?! He wasn't!"

Batista blinked. "What now?"  
Rey whipped his face to Dave. "When you grabbed my arm, he told me I should be worried about you. That you were trying to like- possess me. Dave, that's not true, right?"  
Batista flushed. "No, I was- I didn't grab you because I wanted you all to myself or anything, I grabbed you because I wanted to keep you safe from the ghost."  
Rey faced Shawn again. "See? He was being protective of me like he always is. That's how he is. He's like my older brother, he takes care of me. It's not his fault that he's bigger than me and doesn't know his own strength around me! I can't believe I trusted what you said about him being abusive! That was muy loco, that was complete bullshit! Why did you tell me that? Why would you do that?! You know I trusted you and that Dave and I were fighting, was that it?! But why would you screw with my head when I needed advice from you, Shawn? ¿Por qué me duele así?"

"Stop your bilingual bitching, will you?" Shawn snapped.

Rey clenched up and bit his lips. "Why would you plant something like that in my mind if it wasn't true?"

Shawn sighed. "Oh, we'll get there. Don't get your little Latin underwear in a twist."

Rey frowned.

Shawn glared at Rey. "Well, I already knew I was unsuccessful this whole trip with trying to make you leave Dave. So I tried my hand at making you leave these other little stalkers you have. Like Cena."

John Cena held up his hands. "Bitch, you need to leave me outta this shit, I ain't involved."

"You not only need to leave Dave, Rey. You need to leave all of them, too."

"Maybe I should leave_ you_, Shawn. Leave you right here on the ground with a broken nose and a torn groin. I like the sound of that. Let's try it," Rey's eyes flashed and he stepped forward, loosening up like a boxer about to maul an opponent.

Shawn ignored Rey's threats. He still wasn't quite at the peak of his anger yet.

"You know how I tried to get you to leave the guys, Rey?"

Rey cocked his head to the side. "How?"

"Didn't you wonder how the rug over the trapdoor was askew enough for Batista to see it? I wasn't careful enough covering up my tracks, that's how."

Rey flushed. "You-you found the door to the basement before Dave and I did?!"

Batista's jaw dropped.

"Aw, _hell _no!" Cena hissed.

"You tried to get me to leave them in a _basement_?!" Rey yelled.

Shawn shrugged. "I was gonna let them out eventually. I was gonna make you abandon these unhealthy friends- these bad influences here. And you would give up on them."

"Because I would have thought they were _dead_, you fucking puto!" Rey screamed.

He paced around, breathing heavily, running his hands over his scalp manically, mumbling things in Spanish.

"You would have made me leave Cena, and Jericho, and Edge, and Randy and…and Jeff…in the dark…"

Something snapped in Rey and his eyes flashed brilliantly, making the brown coloring appear red for a moment.

Batista remembered too late hearing about a swan attacking someone because they had gotten too close to its nest of babies.

You did _not_ under any circumstances ever insult, let alone threaten the life of anyone that Rey Mysterio had decided to take under his wing.

Rey launched at Shawn with a ferocity that Batista had never seen in anything short of a crazed wild animal.

Triple H actually shut his eyes while the initial and worst of the pulverizing was going down.

Shawn was taken by surprise at first but then managed to trip Rey only to be tripped back. They scrambled along on the ground, choking each other. Shawn's lower lip was busted and his face was red with the effort of simply trying to hold off Rey. The luchador was blind with rage.

Rey gave Shawn claw marks, a couple of head butts, several violent elbows to the stomach, countless punches, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Shawn couldn't even gain enough time or breath to hit back.

"Screw it," he muttered and jabbed Rey in the throat.

Rey gasped and that was the moment where Batista realized it was seriously his friend in there doing that horrific damage. The sound of Rey's voice, although brief, confirmed it for him. That tangy, sonorous voice.

Rey gasped again when Shawn whipped around the stunned luchador and got him in a dangerously tight headlock. Rey gripped Shawn's arms hard enough to bruise in order to pry him off, but it was no use. Shawn was bound and determined to strangle Rey until he submitted.

"Come on, Rey, say uncle," Batista murmured.

But Rey started turning blue and there was still no hint of submission from him. What his mind wouldn't admit to, his body did. His grip slackened and his eyes started to droop shut as unconsciousness began to come over him.

Shawn released the woozy Rey and flipped him over before he could regain his senses, choking his throat again, but not as closely.

Rey coughed and shook himself lucid.

He tossed Shawn off of him with a series of brutal kicks.

Shawn was sent flying and sprawled out on the ground. Both of them were spent.

Rey sat up, rubbing his throat, eyes narrowed, mouth open to try to get breath.

"Get off me, pendejo," Rey wheezed.

Shawn tried to sit up too, but to no avail. He was battered thoroughly, down for the count.

"Do I have to keep going or have you learned your lesson yet?" Rey demanded.

Shawn shook his head.

"Say it," Rey said breathlessly.

Shawn groaned. "Kay. Kay, fine. I'm sorry I tried to mess up your friendship with Dave. And with the guys. Sorry. Just stop hitting me Rey, Jesus, you should have been a boxer..."

"My uncle used to be a boxer," Rey commented and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He struggled to his feet and lifted his shirt enough to reveal his abs. A huge area was already discolored. "Well, you can't say you didn't put up a fight, Shawn. I'm gonna bruise. We'll call it even now."  
He touched his temple, closed his eyes, shuddered and gasped for air to maintain consciousness.

Batista caught Rey as the adrenaline left him and his body went limp.

"Ugh....gracias, Dave. Gracias."  
Batista's eyes were wide with awe. He eased Rey back to the ground and sat with him.

"You were losing your mind there for a second," Batista told him.

"I'm sorry. I just can't stand it when people try to hurt people close to me."

"You really did get hurt too, didn't you?" Batista asked him, pupils dilated, shocked. "You of all people in a brawl...and over us, too..."

Rey smiled tiredly. "I surprised you, didn't I?"

Triple H and John Cena looked at Rey and then grinned at each other. It was true. Little Rey-Rey had impressed the hell out of them all by giving Shawn a piece of his mind.

Batista blinked. "No, you didn't surprise me-" he stammered, embarrassed. "I- well, I've been in fights, too, it's not like I haven't seen any action either."

Rey laughed. "Oh, wow…sorry, Dave, it's just that you looked so startled… and you're so funny when you're surprised..."

Batista grumbled, his face red, as Cena and Triple H chuckled hysterically at him.

"You better watch it Animal, or you're going to get your ass handed to you by our mild-mannered cruiserweight here," Triple H teased.

"The next time you want to fight me, I ain't gonna. I'll just call Rey-Rey in and he'll do it for me," Cena laughed.

Triple H laughed and carted Shawn Michaels off to the bathroom to take care of him.

"Oh, you crazy bitch, you totally had it coming, and you know it."

Rey exhaled and looked up at Batista.

Batista looked at him. "What?"  
"You thought you'd have to save me, didn't you?"  
"I did not," Batista protested.

Rey raised his eyebrow incredulously.

Batista sighed. "Okay, maybe while he was choking you, I thought I'd have to pull you two off each other and smack him around for you, but it's not like I didn't let you stick it out."  
Rey smiled. "You're like a bodyguard and a friend. Two for one."  
Batista smiled. "You act like that's a bad thing," he said, rubbing Rey's scalp like he was a puppy.

Rey chuckled. "No, it's a good thing. But I'm glad you let me take on Shawn alone."  
He beamed innocently.

Batista sighed. "Well, you did surprise me. I just didn't think...."  
Rey batted his eyelashes at Dave jokingly.

Batista exhaled and rubbed his eyelids. "Rey, you're just too damn cute in my mind to ever clock anybody like you just did."  
Rey laughed. "Oh, man, I fooled you then. I totally fooled you."

Batista sighed and looked at Rey sideways with a teasing smile. "Well, your face fooled me."

Rey burst into hysterical laughter. "My _face_? Whoa, man, really, Dave? Really?"

Batista smiled. "Yes, it sure did. You look so harmless."  
Rey stifled his laughter finally and smiled. "Well, if it's any consolation Dave, you look like a pretty sweet guy yourself."

Batista looked at Rey, face blank. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him. People had always assumed he was a thug and that his size, his muscles made him look like one. "You're just...saying that."

"No, I'm not," Rey said easily. He held Dave's face in his hands. "You look like you're the bodyguard so often that you wouldn't mind if somebody else takes a turn defending you now and then."

He winked and gave Batista a light tap on the cheek. "And you were in luck today. I came to your defense."  
Batista smiled slowly, his eyes bright. "Yeah. You did. You defended me, yourself, the guys...all of us."

Rey offered Dave his hand and he took it and they hugged.

Batista rubbed Rey's shoulders.

"I could use somebody to defend me now and then, Rey-Rey, thank you."

Rey patted Dave on the back.

"Any time, man. Hey, unless you got a beef with the Great Khali, then you count me out of it."

Batista laughed and they came apart and Dave looked at him admiringly, like Rey was his hero.

Rey smiled gladly at Batista.

"You're like a momma bear with her cubs, you know that?" Batista murmured, setting his hand affectionately against Rey's beautiful face.

Rey chuckled. "I believe I'm a poppa bear, not a momma bear, Dave."


	23. Resolutions

**Sorry it took me so long to post this last chapter, but it's actually three chapters rolled into one, so it's super duper long. I had to edit all of them separately and then edit the whole thing put together. Sorry if the length bothers you, but I got the feeling from recent reviews that you wanted me to wrap the story up within one last chapter. It took me a while to post because of that, but I'm very happy with how it turned out.**

**As far as new fics for me are gonna go, I'm in the process of writing two right now. One is a fic called "Behind the Scenes" that will go through the entire length of Rey and Batista's 2009-2010 feud. It's a humorous look at how Dave's love for Rey is making him reluctant to be in a feud with Rey and how he's secretly very upset backstage. It's in the same story arc I began with "A Certain Something" and continued in "Afraid of the Dark". It takes place after "Afraid of the Dark".**

**I love it so far, but I can't finish it until the actual feud is resolved because I want to cover every step of it.**

**The other fic I'm working on isn't named right now but it's THE fic people have been waiting for from me. You got it. THE REYTISTA ONE is COMING SOON. **

**Lots of "love scenes" so if you're ten years old don't read that one, I'm not responsible for ruining your innocence. Seriously. I would like some name suggestions for the title of that Rey X Batista fic. It's going to be very romantic and sweet but it's also really, really sad and realistic.... so much angst you won't know what to do with yourself. My friend calls it "the sad fic" so that gives you an idea of how tragic the beginning is. **

**I'd like the title to be something to do with an aftermath of a tragedy or whatever. Maybe "New Beginnings" or something. Please give me your input on titles and on the ending for Afraid of the Dark. **

**Here's the last chapter now! Love ya!**

Chapter 23: Aftermath

Day Seven at the Haunted House

Everyone had moved back into a bedroom now that the ghosts were gone. Rey and Batista didn't move back into theirs because that's where Rey had found Sylvia's body.

They picked a different one. It was considerably less creepy.

After a shower Rey came out of the bathroom in nothing but his boxers and, humming softly, went to his bedroom. He was showing that his own body had sustained thorough bruising all over his torso. Rey seemed to want Batista to see how bad the damage was. He seemed proud of his wounds, like they were battle scars.

Rey's chest was slightly discolored, but his abdominals were horrific. Black and blue was all over his stomach like paint splashed on a caramel canvas. His legs were bruised on the back of his calves and at his shins and the arm that wasn't bandaged was banged up surrounding his elbow. His thighs were hurt on the sides. His back was atrocious, but it was less obvious there because the ink of his tattoo concealed some of it.

"You're gonna be bruised as hell for at least a week," Batista informed him, shaking his head disappointedly at the mistreatment of Rey's beautiful body.

"It was sooooo worth it, though," Rey said with a sugary grin. "So worth it."

Batista held his tongue. He wasn't talking about the injuries he'd gotten from the fight with Shawn. He doubted there was any more than two of the bruises from that. He was thinking about that ghost and how it had thrown Rey down the stairs. If Dave hadn't been a heavy sleeper- if he'd trusted people enough to let people wake him up from his sleep Rey wouldn't have gotten hurt so badly.

He made a mental note to never let that happen to Rey again.

Rey put on pajama pants now that he'd gotten the response he'd wanted from Dave about his damage-ridden body.

"Worth it? Whatever you say," Batista said, pretending to be intimidated by Rey now.

He lay down and hugged his covers up around his chin in mock fearfulness.

He grinned and teased, "Don't you dare try to kill me in my sleep, you crazy Mexican."

Rey rolled his eyes. "My killing days are over."

"You had killing days?"

"Not really."

There was a pause as Rey pulled back his covers.

"Hey, Rey?"

"Ow," Rey muttered as he lay down on his bruised back. "Yeah, Dave?"

"Well, uh, thanks for sticking up for me, man. I didn't know Shawn was messing with my head like that. Thanks for getting him back for me."

Rey sighed. "You're welcome. I just wish I'd figured that out sooner that he was pitting you and Cena and me against each other. You and I have been fighting all week 'cause of Shawn, haven't we?"

"No, not all week, come on. We had some fun times. We worked well together with...well, you know who."

"Sylvia," Rey murmured. "Yeah. We did do well together helping her."

"I can't believe I thought you liked Cena more than me…" Batista groaned.

"I can't, either," Rey said dryly.

Batista exhaled. "Sorry, Rey."  
"Don't mention it, Dave. Don't worry about it." Rey yawned. "Night, Grande Animal."

"Night, Little Animal."

Rey snorted. "I'd rather be called that in Spanish. 'Poco Animal'."

Batista chuckled. "That sounds great on you. You should change your ring name to it."

Rey laughed lightly. "No, I don't think so. Would I call you 'Grande Mysterio'?"

Batista laughed at that. "That sounds hysterical! I should try it!"

"Aw, hell no!" Rey protested, smiling. "Besides, you'd have to get a mask first!"

"Can't I just borrow one of yours?"

"No! Your head's probably watermelon-sized!"

"It is not! What is your head, then, grapefruit-sized?"

Rey couldn't stop himself from laughing at that. "I don't think any grown person is that small, Dave, oh, that's funny."

Batista grinned.

"Would I have to come up with my own design for the mask, too?"

"Only if I had to wear your microscopic tights in the ring," Rey said.

Batista blushed. It was true; those things he wrestled in were small as hell.

"Would you unmask for me?"

Rey shook his head. "No, I couldn't ever do that for real again."

"Not even to become the ferocious Poco Animal?"

Rey chuckled. "No. Not even then, Dave."

"I'd mask up for you. Could I wear gloves and full pants?"

"Your lady fans might get mad at you about the pants, but yeah. Hey, how much bigger are your hands than mine?" Rey said curiously.

"I don't know."

Rey stretched out his hand. "Show me."

Batista reached out from his side and held his palm outward, fingers up.

Rey touched palms with him and grinned at the size difference.

"Gorilla," Rey taunted playfully. "You're a gorilla."

"Mouse," Batista taunted back.

"Rhino."

"Cat."

"I don't know about that, Dave, I've seen some pretty big cats," Rey argued.

Batista chuckled. "Kitten, then."

"Uh…elephant."

"Guppy."

"I'm aquatic now? Hippo!" Rey said excitedly. Whale was next on his list.

"Shrimp."

Rey rolled his eyes. "Come on, that's too obvious. Whale."

"That's obvious, too. Be more specific. What kind of whale?"

Rey thought about that for a minute. "Not a Beluga whale, those things are lumpy and ugly and way whiter than you are."

"Kane might be a Beluga whale," Batista noted.

Rey sputtered. "Oh, God, maybe like a giant one."

He sighed. "I don't know. You look kind of like an orca whale to me. A Killer Whale."

"Not a Blue Whale?"

"That would be Big Show," Rey said, trying to keep a straight face.

Batista laughed and nodded. "Oh, for sure."

"What am I now?" Rey asked him.

"Uh…I'm not very good with fish. A sardine?"

"Great white shark."

"How come you're saying I'm all these scary things?"

Rey stuck out his tongue. "You are a scary thing, or don't you know that?"

Batista shook his head. "Let's switch back to land animals. You're a squirrel."

"A squirrel?" Rey thought about that.

"The high-fliers of nature," Batista reminded him.

Rey grinned. He liked that. "You're a cougar, then."

"Finch."

"Come again?"

"Those little cheepy birdies that hop around and have those triangular beaks? Peep peep peep! Come on, you know," Batista urged.

"Oh, those things! Those birds are cute, I love those. You're a huge, freaky, California condor then."

"What? That's the thanks I get for making you into a cute cheepy bird? I have to be that fat, wrinkly thing that eats road kill?" Batista asked, pretending to be offended.

"Oh, stop your whining. An eagle, then. You can be an eagle," Rey conceded.

"That's much better."

"What can I be?" Rey asked him, yawning. It was getting late and they were both running out of ideas.

"A bedbug."

Rey laughed. That was pretty clever of Dave. Now, were there any large, sleep-related animals?

"You're a bear, Dave," Rey said sleepily. "A big, fat, hibernating bear."

Batista yawned too.

"Night, Rey."

"Night, Dave."

Rey fell asleep pretty easily, considering how battered he was now. When he drifted off there was still a smile on his face.

Day Eight at the Haunted House

Snowball fight!!!

"What the hell do you use those big arms for if you can't throw?" Rey demanded, diving behind the wall his team had constructed with snow.

They were all having a massive snowball fight to pass the time while they waited for their bus to come pick them up. They knew it would be later than expected because of the snow, so they might as well enjoy the stuff while they could.

"What in the name of Hulk Hogan are you doing?" Rey asked, looking at the massive stash of snowballs that Batista was manufacturing.

"I have the weapons stockpiled for you, fearless leader," Batista said, trying unsuccessfully to imitate a Soviet Russian accent.

Rey laughed at him. "Are you Comrade Batista now?"

Batista shrugged. "Sure."

Rey popped up behind their snow wall to survey his enemies, thinking he was safe and that he could dodge any projectiles before he could ever be hit by them.

He was wrong and he got nailed in the forehead with a snowball, causing him to fall flat on his back.

"Oh my God, a sniper! I got hit right between the eyes!" Rey said breathlessly, grinning. "Jeff, was that you?"

"Yeah!" Jeff shouted back.

"Randy, get him back for me!" Rey ordered.

Randy peeked up and narrowly ducked a massive clod of snow about the size of four or five basketballs packed together.

"What the fuck was that?" Batista blurted as the snow chunk hit the one defenseless tree in the yard.

"Who managed to pick that up?" Rey called.

"That would be me, Rey-Rey!" Cena called back.

"Figures," Rey and Batista said at the same time as they looked at each other. Cena would go for overkill no matter what the medium of fighting was. And he would often miss.

"More ammo, Comrade Batista!" Rey ordered. Batista packed together a particularly tight and icy snowball.

"This has Edge's name all over it," Dave said with a devilish grin. "Fire away, sir!"

Rey grinned and peeked up over the wall, quickly finding Edge and bulleted the snowball, ducking down again. They heard someone hit the ground.

"Ha! Success!" Rey cried.

"Rated R snowball, motherfucker!" Cena screamed and lobbed a snowball with spiky sticks in it at Punk, who was promptly tackled to safety by Randy.

"Hey, that was mine to throw, I made it!" Edge complained from the ground.  
"How about a Lucha Libre snowball?" Batista asked Rey. "How do you want me to make it?"

"Fill it with tequila and put a little mask on it," Rey joked.

Batista shook his head. "No, really," he said through his laughter.

"Can you find any rocks around here?" Rey said, his eyes glowing mischievously.

"Rocks it is," Batista complied, sticking some into a ball.

"Ready?" Rey sought out his target. "I'm going for Cena."

Batista stuck a bigger rock into the snowball. "There you go then. But you might need a boulder, not a rock."

Rey narrowed his eyes and then threw the thing, getting hit in the shoulder with an R-rated snowball in the process.

"Oh, the pain!" Rey yelped dramatically.

Cena collapsed into the snow only to get up almost immediately.

"Hey, stop street-fightin' Rey-Rey! That thing had pebbles in it!" Cena shouted.

Batista looked at Rey. "How the hell did he get hit in the head with that and not get knocked out?"

"Because his skull is thicker than God-knows-what," Rey sighed.

"That was a Tijuana ball!" Rey shouted proudly. "Hand-delivered to you by a real Mexican, too!"

"What, did it have some tacos in it?" Cena teased.

Rey rolled around laughing at that. He thought it was hilarious.

"Make me another one, comrade!" Rey blurted from his back in the snow, sticking his finger up authoritatively despite his position.

Batista smiled at him. "But of course, fearless leader."

Rey lobbed it hard, but it hit Cena square in the chest.

"Aw, damn it," Rey said disappointedly.

"I want to make a Legend Killer Ball!" Randy said, scrambling for ingredients. He cleared away the snow down to the grass and stuffed some onto the edges of a snowball.

Batista raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you call that? A landball?"

"No! Triple H hates grass stains!" Randy said excitedly and chucked it at his former mentor.

"Oh, HELL NO! I'll never get this out!" Triple H screamed. His sweater was white.

Batista gasped for air in between his laughs. "Oh, man, that was great, Randy."

"What can I put in a Straight Edge Ball?" Punk asked thoughtfully, sticking out his lower pierced lip in thought as he often did.

Rey chuckled. "You can't put any foreign substances in your snow, Punk. It has to be straight-up organic, drug-free, stick, grass, and rock free snow."

Punk rolled his eyes. "All right, all right."

He rolled up a plain old snowball. "You throw it, Rey."

"Why?"

"You throw better than me."

Rey mashed Punk's stocking cap down over his eyes affectionately.  
"I'll toss this for you, then."

Batista watched him as he narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, aiming very carefully. He nailed Jericho in the temple, who promptly fell over into the snow bank and called out, "Retreat!"

"You can't retreat from a snowball fight, motherfucker! What kind of man are you?" Cena demanded.

Jericho ran off back into the house shouting "I quit, then! I surrender! Nobody come in after me!"

To make up for their loss, Jeff Hardy went all out just then, firing snowballs almost as fast as a machine gun could spit bullets.

Rey ducked just barely fast enough and his hood got knocked off his head.

He exhaled in relief.

Randy and Punk weren't so lucky; they were pelted.

"Why don't you try to throw somethin' Batista? Or is the stronger half of the tag team doing all the work for you over there?" Cena taunted.

Rey grinned. "Go get him, Dave."

Batista stood up and unleashed a flurry of snowballs at Cena, mostly Tijuana balls. Cena collapsed into a snow bank.

"Damn it all to hell! You and your rocky snow!"

Rey cackled and held his sides.

Just then Triple H stood up and looked over towards the house. Everyone else turned to where he was staring.

Game (and The Game) was called on account of Shawn Michaels walking out the front door, bruised and battered and awkwardly sitting down onto the steps.

"You all right, Shawn?" Triple H asked awkwardly.

He nodded silently.

Batista started and a look of concern crossed his face as he saw Rey grab a bunch of snow in his hand, pack it together, and walk towards HBK.

Everyone watched silently, afraid of what might happen between the two men.

Rey was frowning. He came to a standstill in front of HBK and held up the hand holding the snow.

Batista held his breath.

Shawn winced as Rey moved.

He smacked the handful of snow against the swollen side of the other wrestler's face.

Everyone was stunned.

Shawn relaxed after a second. "Oh. That feels good."

Rey smiled teasingly. "Fooled you."

The snow felt like an ice pack against Shawn Michaels' swollen cheek and black eye.

Shawn opened his eye and smiled faintly at Rey.

Rey beamed back at him. "Truce?"

"Truce."

The guys chuckled, relieved, and went up to the porch.

Batista pulled Rey's hood back up over his head as he stood there.

"Hey. I-I'd like to talk to you alone for a minute, Rey," Shawn told him.

Rey moved the fingers holding the packed snow against HBK's face and it crumbled apart and dropped onto the step. Rey pulled back and patted his gloves clean of the snow.

"Sure."

"Don't be too long or you'll both freeze," Batista said, adjusting the edges of Rey's hood, tucking it in against his face better and pulling the strings tighter. Rey closed his eyes and looked like a little kid getting his scarf tied by his mother.

Rey sighed. "Be right in, Dave."

Batista nodded.

The guys were all covered in white, frosty marks of snow and felt their limbs freezing up from the cold, so they headed inside the house.

"Oh, my bones ache," Batista groaned.

"I hate the cold," Triple H agreed.

Jeff was covered in snow and shook himself off like a wet dog in the doorway.

After they shuffled inside Rey sat down on the porch steps beside HBK.

_My ass is gonna freeze stuck to this thing, I just know it. With my luck lately, that's exactly what's gonna happen._ Rey thought as he shifted around on the cold, frosted steps.

Rey put his hands in his jacket pockets and looked at Shawn Michaels for a second. The older wrestler messed with his mittens and spoke after a moment.

"You know my whole body feels like it got stuck in a meat grinder 'cause of you."

"I can't say I'm entirely sorry for that. You deserved it," Rey said firmly.

Shawn nodded. "I'm sorry."

Rey searched for his eyes. "I'm not very good at telling when people are lying. Maybe I should get Triple H out here to run a lie detection test for me."

Shawn met Rey's eyes. "No, that won't be necessary. I am sorry, Rey."

He smiled sadly.

He was telling the truth.

"You weren't going to let them starve in that basement, were you?" Rey asked.

Shawn shook his head. "Who do you think told Sylvia what everyone's favorite foods were? I handed her things to give to them."

Rey exhaled in relief. "Good. 'Cause I might've had to sock you again if you said were going to let skinny-assed Randy Orton go more than one whole day without food."

Shawn chuckled. "No, no. I was just trying to teach you a lesson."

"And what was that, exactly?"

"That the ones you love are sometimes unhealthy. And that you think they're there for you forever, but they're not. They might leave you some day."

Rey swallowed. "Maybe so. But I can't live life worrying about betrayals that haven't happened yet."

Shawn gulped.

Rey thought for a second. "I accept your apology."

Shawn gazed at him. "Do you know why I did it? Why I was trying to make you leave the ones you love? Why I was trying to teach you about all that stuff?"

Rey shook his head. "No. Tell me."

"Taker left me," Shawn said hoarsely, as though he were still stunned by the news himself.

Rey blinked. "But you two were- it was a secret that you were an item, right? You're both with someone else too, aren't you? I mean, you're married. And isn't Undertaker still with his wife?"

Shawn shrugged. "He could have left me for her, I don't know. Maybe there was another guy in the picture. Taker likes younger things now."

Rey frowned. "That's terrible. I mean, if he left you for his wife, I'm sorry Shawn, but that might be healthier for everybody if that's the case."

Shawn shook his head. "I have reason to believe it's not."

Rey looked concerned. "What do you mean?"

"I saw him kissing Cody Rhodes in the parking lot one night."

Rey pictured Undertaker, who was forty-four and looked older and gruffer than that, dating Cody, who was a somewhat cute twenty-four year old.

Rey narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow like the thought gave him brain freeze.

"What?" Shawn asked him.

"They're twenty years apart."

Shawn snorted. "Don't I know it."

"How old are you again?"

"It's rude to ask a lady her age, Rey, you should know these things."

Rey stared him down, his mouth in a straight line, unamused.

Shawn sighed. "Fine, fine. I'm forty-four."

"So you're the same age as Taker."

Shawn nodded glumly. "We have a lot in common. We've both been in the industry for a good long time, Rey. I mean, Taker's definitely been wrestling since before Rhodes was born. I figured it out. Little sweet, dark-haired Cody was born in 1985, right?"

Rey shrugged. "I'll take your word for it; I don't know him too well."

Shawn sighed. "Undertaker started wrestling professionally in 1984."

Rey's eyes widened and then he gagged. "Oh, God, that's…that's sick. That is very sick."

Shawn pointed to Rey. "That would be like you-"

"I'm not that old, yet, Shawn. We don't have any teenagers in WWE, that's the only twenty-year age difference there would be with me if I ever hypothetically cheated on Angie with a younger person."

Shawn blinked. "Oh yeah. I forget. You're still young, Rey."

"I like to think so."

"When I or Taker date someone twenty years younger we get a college kid. You would get a high school kid who isn't even legal yet. God, what a difference that is."

Rey sighed and shook his head. "It's all hypothetical, Shawn, I'm not into that."

"Into what?"

"Into someone so freakishly younger than me that they could marry my own son in a couple of years." Rey shuddered. "It's creepy. What the hell would I talk about with someone that much younger?"

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Who says you'd be talking?"

Rey blinked and gagged again. "Oh, Maria, Madre de Dios…God, no. No, I would never do that. And I'd never cheat on Angie. But especially not with someone who's still a child, ugh."

Shawn laughed. "You're pretty innocent, Rey, you know that?"

"Compared to you, yeah, I hope so."

HBK chuckled at that. "True, true."

They looked out at the snowy landscape for a minute.

"So that's why you were so angry?" Rey asked.

"Yeah."

"Did you…did you love him? If you don't mind me asking, I mean," Rey said awkwardly.

"I don't even really know, now that you say that," Shawn admitted. "I don't know, Rey."

Rey nodded.

"He made me feel special. Wanted. He was really possessive."

Rey blinked worriedly.

Shawn knew what he was thinking and shook his head. "No, he wasn't violent with me more than once. I made him get help or I threatened to leave him. Guys like that can't be left, Rey. They hate the idea. Deep down I think they're really lonely."

Rey thought of Dave. This sounded a lot like what Shawn had been trying to make him believe about the big man.

Rey touched the marks on his arm.

"I don't think it's anything like that between you and Batista, though."

Rey looked up at him. "Was that the abusive relationship you were telling me about? It was you and Undertaker, wasn't it? And me and Dave remind you of that somehow?"

Shawn bit his lip and nodded.

"So you wanted me and Dave to go separate ways because seeing us reminded you too much of when you were with Undertaker?"

Shawn nodded again.

"How did we remind you of that?"

Shawn exhaled. "The size difference, mostly. The way Dave looks after you. The way you baby Dave no matter how grumpy he is. Reminded me of me and Mark."

He took a breath.

"I didn't want you to end up like me. With Batista breaking your heart. You don't need these people, Rey. I didn't need Taker. Not really. I just wanted him so fucking much that it hurt…it still hurts."

Shawn cried softly, his shoulders shaking. Rey scooted over and wrapped his arm around HBK's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Shawn."  
Shawn shook his head and wiped his eyes. "That stupid gothic fuck can go rot in hell for all I care. Good riddance! He was a drama whore, anyway. And I'm the drama whore in any relationship, the last thing I need is someone too much like myself."

Rey smiled sadly. "Yeah."

Shawn quieted down after a minute or so and felt better. Rey patted his back.

"Sometimes you need to cry. It's been happening to me a lot lately, trust me."

Shawn chuckled. "Yeah. You've been through the wringer out here at this house, haven't you?"

Rey sighed. "Yeah."

"Hey, Rey?"

"Mmm?"

"What type of person do you like?"

Rey thought about how to respond to that.

"I just like Angie. No one else."

Shawn chuckled. "You're so pig-headed. Why do you like Angie's personality? Why does it suit you? Why can you relate to her?"

Rey considered that. "I like someone who doesn't need me."

Shawn looked at him funny.

"Your wife doesn't need you?"

Rey shook his head. "I mean, financially, she does. Physically...maybe. But, emotionally, she wants me. Angie wants to be with me. And I want to be with her. She doesn't need me in order to function. That…I think that's unhealthy when somebody lets another person take over their life so much that they can't live without them. Angie isn't like that. She's fine without me when I'm gone on tour with WWE. She has to be. If she couldn't function without me, God only knows what would've happened to Dominik and Aalyah by now. She has to take care of them without me a lot of the time. I'm gone so much."

"Well, you do call her like, every single day and talk to her for a long time."

Rey smiled softly. "I like to hear her voice."

"Your kids don't forget you as much as with the other guys. I see it when you're with them. They know who you are immediately. And what you like and how you act, and what you look like, and how your voice sounds. You just pick up right where you left off."

Rey nodded. "Yeah. Dave said when he was still married, his kids used to kind of forget who he was. I felt terrible for him. But…that's what happens in our line of work, isn't it? We get disconnected from people."

"That's why he likes you. You're in the business, so it's easy for you to understand the pain in the ass it can be sometimes."

Rey smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Shawn looked out into the snow and grinned.

"What? What do you see out there?" Rey asked him.

"Shh, watch."

Rey turned and stared silently.

A little white owl popped up out of the snow like a jack-in-the-box and skittered around, shaking the snow off of its fluffy little head. Rey started in surprise and then smiled brilliantly, his eyes shining.

Shawn watched him and the owl intermittently. Rey looked like a child sometimes, the way his expressions were so pure and full. When he felt joy, he radiated it outwards from himself and it wasn't long before someone else was smiling because of him.

The owl turned around and scraped with its little talons and feet to clear the snow away from its house. It tramped around in front of its burrow and patted the snow level with the entrance so it could go back in.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Owls shoveling their own driveways," Shawn said.

Rey laughed. "They're amazing, aren't they?"

Shawn nodded, smiling.

"Really amazing."

Chapter 24: Cock Fight

Day Eight at the Haunted House

Rey and Shawn went back inside a few minutes later.

Batista rushed over to Rey and said, "You're not cold, are you?"

"Dave, you're being an abuela again. Calm down."

Batista fidgeted with his hands as Rey pulled down his hood and took off his gloves and shoes.

"Rey's ass is frozen," Shawn reported with a wink. "You better take care of that, Batista."

Batista looked at Rey awkwardly. He secretly hoped that was true.

Rey narrowed his eyes at HBK. "My ass is _not_ frozen, _your_ ass is frozen."

"You're the one that got stuck to the steps, cutie pie."

"Shut your face. I did not get stuck, _you_ got stuck."

Batista sighed and looked up at the ceiling. From his height the two arguing smaller men looked like a couple of roosters in a cock fight.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, pendejo; I had to pry you up off the steps. I wish I'd had a crowbar. You were _stuck_."

"I was not stuck! You're the one with frost on the seat of your jeans!"

"Of course I have frost on the seat of my pants! You made me sit down on a frost-covered step, you idiot!" Rey shouted.

Everyone looked at each other, afraid to laugh, but giggling under their breaths.

"I _was not_ s_tuck_."

"Yes. You. Were." Rey exhaled through his nose like a little bull.

Batista could almost see Rey as a rooster ruffling his feathers the way his shoulders were riding up and making the hood on his jacket puff up around his neck.

Shawn's rooster-ness came through in the way he puffed out his chest and the two glared at each other.

The "ba-kaw!!!" sound effects of squawking chickens was the only thing missing from the scene.

Dave set a huge hand on both of their chests and physically pushed them away from each other.

"If you two need to separate, then that can be arranged, okay?" Batista said, looking from one to the other.

Rey frowned at Shawn from around Batista's bulk.

"Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. You were stuck…" he sang. And he turned on his heel, jogging off to be near the fire.

Shawn limped after him. "You little tramp!"

"I'm not the tramp, puto, you are."

Rey plopped down cross-legged in front of the fireplace. Shawn struggled to follow suit, he was so injured.

"You're bruised as a banana," Shawn taunted. That was an ironic insult for you.

"You're the fruity one, so you should know," Rey shot back.

"I'm losing track of who's winning this fight, now," Triple H hissed to Cena. "Who do you think it is, John?"

"I don't got no clue, neither, man. But one thing's for sure. Them two are one step away from telling 'yo mama' insults. It's gettin' _that_ serious."

Cena arched his hands and stuck his fingertips together conspiratorially.

Triple H observed sternly with him.

"Guys, come on, stop fighting," Batista said, sitting down on the edge of the couch closest to the fireplace.

"You're fat," Shawn growled to Rey.

Randy Orton covered his mouth. To him that was the worst insult of all time.

Rey narrowed his eyes. "Not as fat as your mother."

Cena threw up his arms. "The shit has hit the fan, people."

Rey frowned at Shawn. "Your ass was stuck to the steps, admit it."

"Unlike you, I know when something is a threat to my ass," Shawn retorted, motioning towards Batista, who blushed tomato red.

"I ought to shove you in the damn fireplace," Rey growled, embarrassed.

"Why don't you?" Shawn taunted.

"Because you wouldn't fit," Rey said, sticking out his tongue.

"Like you would?"

"I would. I could probably crawl up the chimney."

"You'd get stuck faster than a Mexican Santa Claus!"

"I would not!"

"Rey, don't jump into the fireplace just to prove a point," Batista pleaded anxiously.

"You're making your nanny anxious over there," Shawn teased.

Rey glared at Shawn. "That makes Triple H your babysitter."

Shawn pouted and Triple H and Batista exchanged looks.

"I can't believe they're dragging us into this," Batista groaned.

Triple H chuckled and shrugged. "Whatever, man. I'm not gonna get riled by them."

"You are such a puto," Rey said to Shawn.

"You keep calling me that. What the hell does 'puto' mean?"

"Man whore," everyone besides Shawn said at the same time.

Shawn glared at Rey.

Rey glared at Shawn.

They scrambled after each other. Rey couldn't use his injured arm and Shawn couldn't use a limb either, but they were frenetically smacking each other nonetheless.

They looked like a pair of injured kittens play-fighting.

Batista sighed and he and Triple H came over.

In tandem, they grabbed the smaller men and separated them.

Batista grabbed Rey's collar. "Easy, there."

"Shawn, knock it off," Triple H barked and did the same.

They unhooked the two smaller men and dragged them back across the floor, setting them down like luggage at their feet of their opposite couches.

Rey and Shawn narrowed their eyes at each other from the floor and stood up slowly, getting ready to pounce on each other again.

Batista grabbed Rey's waist and yanked him back down into his lap. Rey's expression was priceless; blank, startled.

"_Da-ave_! Stop grabbing me!"

"Down, boy," Triple H chuckled and squished Shawn Michaels' scalp and made him sit back down.

Batista reluctantly shifted Rey off his lap and sat him beside himself.

He twiddled his thumbs and kept an eye on Rey. "No more fights, okay?"

Rey pouted.

"I thought you two made up out there. You didn't?" Triple H inquired.

"Well…we kind of did," Shawn admitted.

"But then we started back up again because he got stuck to the steps and was too embarrassed about it to own up to it," Rey put in.

Shawn glared at him. "I wasn't stuck."

Batista groaned. "Well, how did you two make up in the first place?"

"Shawn told me what was going on with him this week."

He looked at HBK for permission to explain.

"Do you want to say it or should I?"

Batista looked between the two of them. "This sounds serious. What was it?"

Shawn sighed. "I'll tell them, Rey."

Rey nodded.

"Undertaker left me."

"I already knew that," Triple H reminded him and had to dodge an uppercut from Shawn.

"_Of course_ you already knew that, you idiot! I was just telling everyone else what happened!"

Randy covered his mouth and C.M. Punk blinked, perplexed. Jeff bit his thumbnail just like always, staring vacantly at the news and promptly fell over onto Punk.

Edge shrugged. "Knew it."

"I did, too," Jericho admitted. "I thought he'd leave sooner."

Rey and Shawn joined forces temporarily and glared at Jericho, who was terrible at not being insulting towards people, he was so used to being a heel on TV.

"Take that back. Right now," Rey ordered.

Jericho gulped. "Sorry…"

Batista stared at Shawn Michaels. "He left you?"

Shawn crossed his arms and didn't meet Batista's look.

"Shawn, why didn't you tell me? I of all people- you could have talked to me about that!" Batista blurted and then looked at Rey a little awkwardly.

Rey gave a short sigh.

It was exhausting to be wanted by someone at all hours of the day and night like this.

"You want me to leave the room or something while you discuss the lack of boyfriends going on here?"

All the guys sighed forlornly at the same time.

"I ain't got no boyfriend, neither man. I miss him," John Cena said.

"You had a boyfriend?" Batista asked doubtfully.

Cena nodded. "His name was Stan and he worked at a WalMart in Wisconsin. But we hardly ever do shows in Wisconsin, so I never got to see him again."

"You mean you dated a fan for a few days when we went to Wisconsin?" Triple H asked him.

Cena nodded sadly. "I miss Stan."

Rey stared at him with his brow wrinkled, trying very hard to picture John Cena with another man at WalMart and then when he did, he shook his head and tried to get the image out.

He sat for a minute as everyone squabbled around Shawn, giving him their condolences and some relationship advice.

"Why don't you and Triple H ever just stick together? Why do you need anybody else in the picture, Shawn?" Punk asked.

That was a good point. Triple H and Shawn had known each other for so long it was almost like they were a married couple. But Shawn always broke it off and said they needed to see other people. And Triple H didn't mind because he didn't like _all _the crazy things Shawn ordered him to do when they were together.

"We do better in an 'on again off again' relationship," Shawn insisted stubbornly.

Triple H rolled his eyes. "With Shawn here everything can be fun and sexy and all that for the first few days but then he gets super jealous and I get sick of him and we break up again. It's better to only stay together the first few days and then make a run for it."

Rey rubbed his eyelids. Everyone had too many issues and he didn't want to know about all the gory details.

"I'm gonna go take a nap while you guys discuss boys…men…people," Rey said awkwardly and sighed. "I'm going upstairs."

He stepped gingerly, his compact, broken body looking so vulnerable.

**

After they had all gossiped sufficiently enough, Batista went upstairs and saw Rey sound asleep on his sleeping bag, a blanket tucked over him. He was tired after all he'd been through.

And they were going to be late tonight heading back to civilization on a bus, followed by an airplane ride to another state and then another bus ride back to the WWE arena. And then finally to a hotel tomorrow night.

Batista tucked the blanket up around Rey's shoulders and Rey stirred slightly, mumbling something in Spanish.

Rey had told him once that his dreams were bilingual but were primarily in Spanish.

_But the ones with you guys in them have mostly English because you guys don't know any Spanish_. Rey had said, laughing.

_You dream about us, Rey?_ Batista had asked him, surprised.

Rey had looked at him funny. _What? You don't dream about people?_

Batista had chuckled embarrassedly. Rey hadn't known about Batista's feelings for him back then.

_No, not much._ He'd answered.

But what he'd really wanted to say to Rey was "Only about you. I only dream about you."

Rey woke himself up a few minutes after Batista arrived in the room. Whether he heard the larger man rustling around or it had been a dream to wake him, neither of them knew.

"Dave…?" Rey asked sleepily, sitting up as his eyes focused. "What's up?"

Batista came and sat down beside Rey. "Just checking on you, buddy, that's all."

Rey yawned. "I'm still alive."

Batista smiled. "Yeah, I can see that."

Rey observed his friend for a minute. He knew that that conversation downstairs had gotten to Dave about male on male love interests.

"Do you want to talk about your feelings or would I be offended?" Rey asked him.

Batista shrugged. "No, I…well, I would like to talk to you."

Rey looked at him and Batista met his eyes hesitantly.

"I'm supposed to be honest with you more often about what I'm feeling towards you," Dave admitted, fiddling with his hands, embarrassed.

"That's what Dr. Jimenez says, anyway. She says it'll make both of us feel less stressed. And like we can communicate better."

"What am I supposed to do?" Rey asked. He wasn't being sarcastic.

Batista shrugged. "Just…just hear me out, Rey, that's all I ask."

Rey nodded. "Okay. I'll listen. What do you want to tell me?"

"Well, when you…when you were cold the other night…when I brought you in out of the rain…"

Rey blushed intensely. He seemed to know where this was going.

"I…I just wanted to say to you that all I want from you right now is just some sort of slight return of affection. You hug me all the time, you leap into almost anybody's arms all the time, and you shake hands with people. But you always kiss the ones you love. After being with you, sleeping beside you, the thing I wanted most was…was a kiss."

Rey blinked. "A kiss from me?"

"Yeah…"

"To you?"

"Yeah," Batista said, looking into Rey's eyes.

Rey opened his mouth and thought better of what he was going to say. He covered it in thought.

"I don't expect anything else from you, Rey, I promise."

Rey looked up at his friend, knowing that that wasn't true. He knew that Dave longed for Rey to love him and for him to become sexually involved with the other man.

But Rey didn't know how to do that.

He even doubted his own emotional connections with Batista.

Rey had never felt more dependent on Batista than he had this past week. And that confused him. He had been taught to believe that being male; he had to be the protector in a relationship. He wasn't supposed to be the one to receive protection.

So he was either a failure according to that logic, or that logic was wrong. He didn't know which it was.

With Angie things made much more sense. With Dave he was emotionally frustrated and confused the majority of the time spent with his friend.

Rey was actually not consciously attracted to Dave, believe it or not. One of the facets of Rey's personality was that he was very physical with everyone he knew.

It made him feel cold and distant if he couldn't give or receive hugs. It had nothing to do with romance sometimes, but it had everything to do with his affections.

And partially because of his religion, and partially because of how he was raised, Rey didn't even really know that it was a possibility that he could be attracted to another man. He didn't know if he could be. He knew he wasn't supposed to be, but he didn't know that he still could be.

But deep down, maybe Rey was attracted to Dave. Why else would he have been so incredibly comfortable with Dave massaging him when he was half-naked?

But if there were any feelings in Rey's heart of love for Batista then they were all in his subconscious. He would never know they were there.

But maybe Rey had uncovered something in himself over the course of that week. And maybe now he at least understood how Batista could be in love with him.

Rey took Batista's much larger hands in his and smoothed over the knuckles with his thumbs. He squeezed Batista's hands together and lifted them towards his mouth, pressing his lips against them very gently. The soft, warm curves of his lips folded in against Batista's hands and embraced them intimately.

Rey couldn't bring himself to kiss Dave on the lips, so a kiss on the hands was still safely a sign of friendship. But the way he'd done it made Batista feel as though it were a romantic gesture. Like a man kissing a woman's hand when they first met. In a way, it felt even more romantic to Batista than a kiss on the mouth because that would have made Rey feel uncomfortable, and that would've ruined it for Batista.

"That's the best that I can do for you," Rey said, smiling sadly up at his friend and lowering their hands to waist height. He didn't drop them, though.

"Rey?"

"Yeah?" Rey asked, afraid that he had hurt Dave's feelings.

"Don't knock the little things."

Rey smiled ethereally.

He yawned again in spite of himself. He was so tired.

"Go back to sleep, Rey-Rey, I'll wake you up when it's time to go," Batista assured him softly.

Rey smiled gratefully and lay down again. Batista tucked him in.

Rey was out cold in a matter of two minutes, his little body wrapped up warmly and breathing soundly.

Batista watched over him, guarding him.

Chapter 25: Resolutions

Day Eight at the Haunted House

At seven PM the bus finally pulled up and dusk was settling on Sassafras, Massachusetts.

Batista shook Rey's shoulder gently.

Rey yawned and sat up slowly. "Are we going home now?"

"Yeah, buddy. Come on. Let's get your sleeping bag rolled up."

They loaded their luggage under the bus and Rey stuffed his blanket and pillow onto his seat, thinking he'd nap the whole drive to the airport. He was drained from the week and it was finally catching up with him. He wanted to see the house one last time before he left and so he descended the steps of the bus.

Rey stood in the snow, gazing around as the light dimmed in the sky.

He saw a little owl staring at him a little ways away and he waved goodbye to it.

It cocked its head to the side and fluffed its wings out and then back against its body, looking almost as though it was returning the wave.

Rey chuckled at it.

Batista came to stand beside him, his huge footfalls crunching through the snow. He was completely graceless in it, whereas Rey could tread lightly and if the snow had a layer of ice, he could walk over it without leaving much of an indentation.

In the dusk, the forest was gorgeous and so were the soft, glowy, snow-covered fields surrounding the house.

"What do you think is going to happen to this place now?" Rey asked, gazing back up at the old house.

Batista looked at it too. "I don't know. What do you think they should do?"

Rey remembered all of the things in the attic, the beautiful, ancient wallpaper peeling slowly away, the family portrait still hanging on the wall.

"I'd like to see somebody preserve it. It's already up here, and it doesn't seem to take away too much space from the owls. I mean…they've got miles and miles of preserve other than the grounds of this house, right?"

He looked at Batista, who nodded thoughtfully.

"How are you going to convince people it isn't haunted anymore?"

Rey shrugged. "I could show up and sit on the stairs to show that no one will get pushed down them."

Batista chuckled. "Who's going to finance maintaining this place though? And pay for it to be preserved or restored or whatever? That stuff isn't cheap, Rey, and this is a huge house."

"The brochure said an association of house museums was interested about it. They just wanted the whole mess of the ghost business to be cleaned up. After Sylvia's mother gets buried, it won't be long before they come around and ask if the house is finally safe to take over."

"What about Sylvia's father?"

Rey snorted. "I could care less what they do with that pendejo's corpse. They can chuck him out into the ocean for all I care."

Batista sighed. "Maybe he should be buried in a criminal's prison. Or Potter's Field."

"As long as he's not next to his wife and daughter, that's okay with me."

Batista nodded.

"You did good here, Rey. I think it turned out for the best that you decided to come here."

Rey stared at the attic window where he had first glimpsed Sylvia.

"I think so too, Dave," he whispered.

They turned to go and set foot back on the bus.

**

When they came back to the WWE stadium facility, Rey felt like he was arriving in another world.

Mr. McMahon had heard about the fiasco with the cameras and how the special was lost. So had the Divas.

Rey was rushed in the hallway by an overexcited Kelly Kelly, who jumped on him, much to the annoyance of Batista, who refused to leave Rey's side.

"Easy! Girl, you'll break me in half if you keep pullin' on my neck like that!" Rey said with a laugh, patting Kelly's back with his one good hand.

"Oh my God, Rey, what happened to your arm?"

"It's a long story…" he said with an awkward smile. "I don't know if you'd believe it."

The other Divas all crowded around and started chattering at him.

Batista groaned, feeling like all this talking sounded similar to a bunch of chickens scrambling around for bird seed. But it wasn't: it was just a few shameless grown women scraping desperately for gossip.

Batista looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

"Did the ghosts do that to you?" Melina asked finally, and all the Divas stopped talking.

The elephant in the room had been addressed. Now it was up to Rey to see how it would be dealt with.

"One of them hurt my arm, yeah."

Suddenly a certain blonde Diva pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of Rey.

"Hi, Michelle. I told you I'd come back," Rey said with a sad smile.

Michelle had tears in her eyes. She threw her arms around Rey and hugged him close.

Rey set his head on her shoulder, holding her with his good arm.

"Did you meet Sylvia…?" Michelle whispered in his ear.

Rey smiled. "She's at peace, now, Michelle. All of their family is."

Michelle closed her eyes, suppressing tears of joy. She squeezed him tight.

"Thank you so much, Rey."

Rey patted her hair. "You don't need to thank me. I was happy I could help her."

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need to smack me around now to maintain your reputation?" he whispered to her. "'Cause I'm already pretty beat up, I don't know what other parts I can give you to break."

Michelle grinned. "No, Rey, I'm not gonna put you through anything else too painful. But brace yourself."

"Brace myself for what?" Rey hissed.

She leaned back from him finally, her eyes dry.

She smacked him possessively on his ass.

Rey started in surprise.

She glared at Batista right in the eye. "What are _you_ lookin' at? He's mine."

Rey blushed intensely.

Michelle turned on her heel and walked off as all the other Divas chattered and followed her, impressed.

"That girl is a piece of work," Batista growled. "Putting her hands on you like that with me right here. The nerve of some people."

Rey chuckled. Michelle's ruse had worked. She still looked tough in the eyes of everyone else but him.

"I'm ready to go to the hotel now," Rey told Batista, looking up at his friend with a sweet smile.

"Oh no you don't. You're going right to a doctor. I don't want you taking any chances with those injuries. I'm not going anywhere until I see you set foot into a check-up with my own two eyes."

Rey sighed. "Okay, let's go to a hospital, then."

Other than the cut, the bruising and the sleep deprivation, Rey had nothing to be treated for. He didn't have a fever or hypothermia, as it turned out. And what he secretly thought had been a concussion from his unfortunate trip down the stairs was just a bump on the back of his head. Miraculously, none of his bones were broken or fractured and none of his muscles were pulled.

Batista stood in the examination room with his arms crossed, listening to the diagnosis.

"Uh…sir, are you his relative, or…?" the doctor asked hesitantly.

"Cousin," Rey and Batista said at the same time.

"We're cousins."

The doctor nodded, not sure he believed that, but didn't want to be the one to tell Batista that he couldn't listen in on his friend's diagnosis.

Rey and Batista went back to the hotel with Rey's newly bandaged arm. Rey stopped in his tracks in the lobby, seeing Michelle McCool sitting at a table near the breakfast area. Rey's face lit up and he looked to Batista to see if his escort would allow him to talk to her.

Dave nodded. "Go ahead. You two have a lot to catch up on. I'll take your stuff upstairs o our room for you."

It was eleven o'clock and dusk had settled a long time ago. It seemed like only seconds ago had been yesterday and they had been standing in the snow, gazing up at Sylvia's house.

Batista went and set their luggage in their room. He checked back on the tall blonde and the compact Latino a minute later and watched from an upstairs balcony at the two of them sitting at a little table across from each other, drinking tea.

Rey's lips were moving and Michelle was looking at him thoughtfully, listening intently. Rey took out the two photographs to show Michelle.

Michelle teared up again, wiping her eyes and Batista saw her nod as Rey talked and pointed between the two pictures, no doubt mentioning that they'd noticed what the bond was between her and Sylvia.

Rey slid both photographs across the table to her. Batista blinked in surprise.

Rey was giving Sylvia's picture to Michelle? But he'd been so close to her…

Rey was smiling.

And Batista stared at the Diva, holding his breath and hoping that she knew better than to take Rey's generosity at face value.

The Diva shook her head and slid the old photograph back in front of the luchador.

Rey looked at it and smiled gratefully up at Michelle as he took it up so carefully into his fingers.

He hugged the picture of Sylvia and her mother to his chest.

Michelle took the photograph of her and the Divas held it up to her heart, mirroring him. They smiled at each other silently and Batista wiped his eyes from up at his perch.

He went back to his room and Rey came in a few hours later.

"So you told her the whole story?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything," Rey said his voice tired, but so relieved and so happy.

"Did she tell you what happened when she was there?"

Rey nodded. "Yeah. I'll fill you in about the Divas' trip tomorrow, Dave. Is that okay? I'm exhausted already."

Batista nodded. "It is one o'clock."

Rey looked at his watch. "Really? Wow…time flies, doesn't it?"

Batista nodded again. "Yeah."

"Sorry I took so long with Michelle."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you two could finally talk together."

"You could have come down and talked with us, you know," Rey said.

Batista shook his head. "No. You two needed to be alone together. It wasn't my place to be sitting in on that conversation."

Rey nodded gratefully.

"So what happened with the photographs? Did Michelle take both?"

"She let me keep Sylvia's. She kept the one with her in it," Rey smiled softly and handed the old picture to Dave.

He took the photograph and was reminded of Rey confessing Jeff Hardy's secret to him. Yet again, Rey honestly believed that Batista hadn't eavesdropped on him.

"Sylvia's mother and Michelle are both really beautiful, aren't they?" Batista said, fingering the edges of it.

"Yeah, they really are," Rey agreed.

"They do look so much alike, it's…you have to wonder. Maybe Michelle was Sylvia's mother in another life."

Rey shrugged.

"I see you're already showered and everything, so I'm gonna go ahead and get ready for bed, too," Rey said.

"'Kay. See you when you get out, Rey."

Batista looked at the photo for a while when Rey was in the shower and then he set it gently onto their bedside table.

"Night, Sylvia," he whispered to it.

Rey came out of the bathroom with his pajama pants on, shirtless. "Could you help me re-bandage my arm, Dave?" he requested.

"Sure, buddy. Come on over here," Batista said, resituating so that he was cross-legged and patted his bed.

Rey grabbed the bandages and medication he'd been given and sat down with his side turned toward his friend while Batista took his arm and carefully treated it.

"Thanks, Dave."

"Sure thing."

"You want to sleep in separate beds tonight since the room has two?" Batista asked him.

"Yeah, if that's okay with you, I'd like to sleep by myself."

Batista nodded. "If you get cold again though, you know to crawl over here, right?"

Rey smiled embarrasedly and nodded. "Yeah."

They lay down in their separate beds.

They were both silent for a few minutes. Batista assumed Rey was asleep.

"Hey, Dave?" Rey whispered as they both stared up at the ceiling.

"What, Rey?" Batista responded quietly.

"Did you hear what Jeff whispered to me after he got out of the basement?"

"No. What did he say?" Batista asked curiously.

Rey smiled. "He said he wasn't afraid of the dark anymore."

Batista smiled too. "That's great."

"Yeah."

There was comfortable silence between the two of them. They felt closer, now. Batista felt like it didn't matter to him anymore (at least for the time being) about his physical proximity to Rey. He knew how close he was to Rey's heart and he didn't need physical confirmation.

"I never was afraid of the dark," Rey said conversationally.

"I was," Batista admitted. "You never were? Even when you were like six or younger?"

"A little bit then, but not really."

"Why do you think it didn't scare you as much as heights do?" Batista asked.

"I found out after a while that everything's exactly the same with the lights off as it is with them on."

Batista chuckled. "I don't know about that. Everything has shadows upon shadows in the dark."

"Do you think that house made you more afraid of the dark, though, Dave?'

Dave thought about it. "If Sylvia's in the dark then no. But if it's her father, we might have a problem."

Rey smiled to himself. "Yeah."

"You, Rey?"

He thought about it silently. That was a hard question to answer now.

"Rey?" Batista whispered. "You fall asleep over there?"

"I'm awake Dave, I'm awake."

"So what do you think?"

"I think anybody would have been scared by that place in the dark. The ghosts just made it that way. And because it was so old…" Rey said, his voice trailing off.

"But now? Like, are you afraid of this dark room now? I can get you a nightlight if you want."

Rey laughed. "No. Not here. After being in the dark in that place, the dark everywhere else feels less…"

"Muy mal?" Batista offered.

"Yeah. It feels less 'very bad', Dave, great job with the Spanish," Rey said.

Batista chuckled. "I had to try."

Rey stared up at the ceiling.

"I know what you mean, though. This darkness isn't as dark as nighttime at Sylvia's house," Batista whispered.

"Yeah," Rey murmured. "So I don't think I could be scared by any place less threatening than that now."

"I don't think any house was as threatening to you as that one. You had quite a few close calls there, buddy."

"Yeah, I did."

"I'm glad you're safe, Rey," Batista said quietly.

"Glad to _be_ safe. And I'm glad you made it out with me," Rey responded. "I'm glad we all made it out of there."

"I'm glad Sylvia made it out of there," Batista whispered.

"Me too," Rey yawned, sleep beginning to edge in on him.

"Good night, bedbug," Batista murmured.

"Sweet dreams, grande oso."


End file.
